So, every Sunday I wipe the dust of the week‘s days Left all behind me.
The tree forgotten by the birds is aging. (Nicolae Sfetcu, 06.08.2017)
I try to surprise the sunrise on the blue lake; the clouds hide it… (25.07.2017)
… and in the morning, on the lake, the sleeping gulls dream of the blue sea… (04.08.2017) (Nicolae Sfetcu)