Orange is the Colour of Word
Poetry is a sky dark with a wild-duck migration. - Carl Sandburg
Monday, December 26, 2011
from The Book of Questions
III.
Tell me, is the rose naked
or is that her only dress?
Why do trees conceal
the splendor of their roots?
Who hears the regrets
of the thieving automobile?
Is there anything in the world sadder
than a train standing in the rain?
Pablo Neruda
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