Eugenia Buzatu

i lost my ice cube in the sand how ridiculous the old pipe-smoker with glass bones i saw him walking i saw him walking he use to paint me wearing the red dress incredibly french dress of

black eyes of the voracious butterfly ablaze again the unspotted wings of phoenix rousing the mystical scent of ashes tempting eyes and tempting wings lonely red flower emerge from dust and

falling stars and blooming morning glory - look back or ahead?

clouds on the horizon - suddenly through the window black crows and butterflies.

her gnarled fingers caressing bonsai branches - new child is born.

early spring morning haze - on the near white birch branch one near black bird.

november cold night. the full moon is shivering in the tidal pool.

pale brow and blind eyes, dews of pain, a distant smile. cherry tree in blossom.

the last blooming rose. an old blind woman tells the legend of the fall.

The scent of roses. Two empty chairs in gentle rain.