18 may 2021
In Stillness
A long night―
unending was,
the wait for the sickle moon.
Midnight,
shooting stars―
you are still breathing?
Doleful cry―
of the crickets. Why
the rain has stopped?
I was talking―
to the clouds
for a favor.
18 may 2021
A long night―
unending was,
the wait for the sickle moon.
Midnight,
shooting stars―
you are still breathing?
Doleful cry―
of the crickets. Why
the rain has stopped?
I was talking―
to the clouds
for a favor.
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