Fum

Fumul copacilor in flacari

mi-a intrat pe nări

si-a zgândarit materia vie...


In cotloane cenușii azvârlită, 

mă uit prin ocheane înguste


si văd copii pe sănii,

in vai inzapezite


cu ciulini bățoși

iesind de sub patura alba;


copii tragandu-se pe gheața

bălților uitate de toamna,


in hainele lor cu câlți de lână

făcute de bunici la gura sobei...


Apoi fum in cer...

Dar de-acolo


noi așteptăm mereu

sa-si ia zborul

pasarea Phoenix...


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