on a faded page in his pastel clothes
that naughty rabbit ran home.
he dodged the farmer
he lost his tail
but he never turned around-
not until he reached that tree.
blackberries and beds and mother.
on a faded path in my pastel dreams
i'm searching for a home.
i was trapped by the gardener
i cut my off hair
and i always turn around-
i never reach that tree.
olives and sand and peter.
i will run until i find the fir tree.
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