Puiu Răducan

The Forest

Puiu Răducan Midsummer strips winter of its mantleand 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 packof 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.

World Literary Art Impressions Magazine No. 1 – autumn, 2022

LITERARY SPECIES - PROSE

Where is the forest asksthe lost shoot? Can't believe it! Where is? He always rubs his eyes full of domestic tears and it seems to make them... liars. The shadow of the forest had also disappeared. The mist of buds ran down his back with bumps. The forest! Well, the forest, frightened by the snoring of the chainsaws, of the murderous blades with sharp teeth and a dull sheen, scuttled into their pockets. This is the peak, well, with you

now!

How, which shots and pockets!? You don't even know what you voted for! What the hell, people! Are you wondering and don't know why? The forest has fled! How soon the doina, longing and the song of the cuckoo will also flee. The tears of the thick bald mountains collect in the valleys and meander downhill among characterless "implants". I run and cry! The Lord, walking the old SUN in the Great Chariot in the sky in a stripe, seeing the Carpathian disaster, wiped his blue eyes and asked him:

–Come on, SUN!Where are the Carpathian forests?

World Literary Art Impressions Magazine No. 1 – autumn, 2022 –I don't know, God!The horses of the devil's stud pounced on her and chased her into the fields and into the pocket of Ghyury, Ioshka... and the others. –Well, what forests did I give them, well! The moon was hidden in the thickets of the Six for fear of the Lord, lest she be asked about the butchery in the mountains. –Yes, who chased away my forest, old man, Soare? –God, I don't know!It's not ours! –My, what people, bad, my!They chased even the shadow of the forest.What harm would it have done to them!? Oh God! Where are you my forest, with your sleepy song!