Still In Silence

A Little Poem on Still-life With A Teapot

All those apples and apricots, oranges, pears –
I don’t really know if they are.
I am looking at silence.

The line of beauty does not even whisper.

Somebody leans on my shoulder:
“T’was me, I came along accidentally and took a bite.”
Who is he? Must be Adam, smiling at an apple.



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