27 may 2020
A Grave Question
The bio sheet remains
incomplete.
I am leaving the papers blank.
Singed, as the white coal:
the ash, smudged on eye brows.
I have come to rekindle
the dying flames.
The anger was mine,
scolding the scarf in winter storm,
what was the need to spread the
white sheet?
Like you will not write, an―
apology for kissing a cobra tongue.
It was ok to become a fool?
Where a tear sits on
the edge to fall in silence
for not undoing the hawthorn?
22 november 2024
22.11wiesiek
22 november 2024
Pod miękkim śniegiemJaga
22 november 2024
Liście drzew w czerwonychEva T.
21 november 2024
21.11wiesiek
21 november 2024
Światełka listopadaJaga
20 november 2024
2011wiesiek
19 november 2024
Niech deszcz śpiewa ci kołysankę.Eva T.
19 november 2024
1911wiesiek
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Jeden mostJaga
19 november 2024
0011.