Are There

Someone is breaking the branches?!

From midnight to the dawn,

The forest is trembling inside me.

My trees are innocent,

Thirsty for milk,

Firm hands, and

The scent of effervesce.

I'm drinking my mint tea.

I'm bringing tranquility without aim,

And flowers for the vase.

When I look at it is never the same.

I'm starting to believe in a fertility of miracles.

Is there the flame, which could turn the heavens

Into the ashes?

Are there any hands to pick up my ripe apples?!

The Web Projects of Sondra Ball and Mario Cavallini