Poezja

Hundreds of miles from the sea
the roar resounds
when I bring a shell to my ear
as if to eternity it wants to buzz
 
keep witnessing of a place
where sand lays softly under your feet,
where water are flooding into the distance
and brings memories back that have been misplaced long ago.
 
I wonder about you from whose hand it came,
if you are sometimes thinking of me
or are you still disguised by life
in places where the most bright lights beckon?