a tree sits in a bird
singing
flying over here
flying over there
admiring the violet skies
as no one other before
the tree knows how to enjoy all this
how the clap and laugh with his laud voice
he knows how to see through his branches
and not go for more
over the hills
over the tree’s forehead
over his tiny house
the sun cleans his garden dancing
everything goes by in a heartbeat
clocks became friends with people
people became friends with people
this madness and immense beauty
can be seen by almost anyone now
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