Poezja

the birds in the trees and a wind chime
 in the slow breeze
 that is exceptional in muting
 our talking
 quietly
 the jaws relax
 we float together on the flying moment
 silenced and willing to go on
 further into the day's magic
 stolen by the theives of our days
 and we feel we are stealing back
 what was ours all along
 *