Oh god how the yellowness is slabing
in my room without the exit door
inevitable windows are yellow
armchairs carpets walls
my old type-writer
and the sound it produces
and the sun that mirrors
my windows
they too are yellow
as is my face
and my song
and hope
to see the flowers
when autumn yellows
the mountains and fields
Slabing of Yellowness
AuthorLindita Ahmeti