World Literary Art Impressions Magazine No. 1/2022 – autumn
The Forest Puiu Răducan Midsummer strips winter of its mantle and chases it into the den. Her time had passed, and now she was a frail and brittle decaying body. From behind the window in a green hoodie, the new princess drew back the curtain with the scent of pearl, snowdrops, hyacinths, violas and lilacs. A pack of budgies was running wildly on the bald mountain, but also among the kids that were frolicking in the pens. She was running, she couldn't find her rhythm, her breathing, well, she was also very exhausted. The hills had begun to be covered with lambs... The forest is no more! Where to put the poor buds!? There are also many. Escaped from under the murderous caterpillar of a tankette, a stump, a small forest chicken, with broken ribs, could barely hold on to its roots. He was struggling to get up. He hadn't even managed to do it, to wipe his pain-watered eyes, because a bunch of buds settled on his forehead with pain. He finally manages to wipe away his raw tears, but he was badly frightened when the shadow of the forest ran away to look for his mother. Terrible situation of the poor forest chick. In the fear he was going through, he didn't even realize that the flock of buds, having nothing to rest on, was twisting his numb arms in pain. ISSN 2971 – 9267 ISSN-L 2971 – 9267
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