Out of crooked clouds priceless things grow.
Very tiny things suddenly become important.
The sky is green and opaque
Down there where the blind hills glide.
Tattered trees stagger into the distance.
Drunken meadows spin in a circle,
And all the surfaces become gray and wise...
Only villages crouch glowingly: red stars -
Into The Evening
Alfred Lichtenstein
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Poem topics: green, red, sky, spin, wise, blind, suddenly, distance, circle, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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