On the morning of oblivion…by G. Mramor

On the morning of oblivion…by G. Mramor

On the morning of oblivion I rise with the mourning star. I move through the crowds and let our shoulders bump, our hands touch, our eyes wonder. In the park light dazzles children climbing hills, dashing fields, running the jungle gyms lords of all.  And in the cafes hairy legs and summer dresses, grizzly beards [...]