true story
sheepish and fearful, — placed on the rib of a dream,
a tree tries to put itself a new suit on its twigs
a thread of sand feeling it, it began to wave a poem
metamorphosing the view into a palpitating symphony
subtle fragrances of the pink magnolias and pines
kissed the spring's ambiance budding it in a true story
and me, i became warmer listening curiously, its light,
orchestrated tenderly by a moaning subtle breeze
