Childhood

Childhood was not in the Black Forest

Were not singing off

Trees, oak, and pine and

Leaves

Empty trees

here not was always dark  

Last night I saw him in a dream 

The smell was oak

I missing

My cold hands

In my childhood

There were four seasons for forest

Off light

Infinity sound empty and alone

Deep

Last night was a sleepy dream

Now forest have not The smell of oak

By Taha Delphani