A striking March sparkling injection The pupil contracts to the tip of the needl

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A striking March sparkling injection
The pupil contracts to the tip of the needle
.
And a helicopter whistle
.
That's the way the verb works
It heats up icy dreams in us
.
And rare drops of barely living water
,
The smells and birds are not audible
.
The piercing time of dumbness
,
Frozen whistling gardens
.
A horse thunders on the roofs of ice
The Easter new day is inevitable
.
Then we'll come alive again
.
Don't touch it now
Such a sharp and cutting shadow
.
Which we discard
,
Which outlines us
.
And so we reach the void
And the warmth of the hands
,
and the glow of the eyes
.
oil paints
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