Pond - March 4, 2015
Pond
Looking at her diamond eyes,
The old woman
flung wild tales
like the confusion of a wave force of a horizon.
I'm gonna find my adventure starting from here
a fresh start to a new day on my cold stubborn feet
for as far as I walk
there is a silvery circle
following me.
The birds are not chirping
And now that we have got this far
and it is impossible to tell
stairway of acceptance
we watch
The water mirage in the monsoon.
There is the sound of
your voice and mine,
listening.
Acrylic Poem Collage |
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