2 july 2021
Three Vistas
Do not count.
Do not return my poems―
written for you,
in memory of hot pink
flamingoes, that had not returned
to their abodes.
Flashbacks. Fear of colors
arises. You shut your eyes.
Idolatry soaring. Night
will ask the stars. Why am I
carrying the burden of a rock
on my shoulders?
Moon laughs.
You stay quiet,
will not commit any kill.
A train whistles by. Evening
plays a thief, stealing your demeanor.
Inside you burn. No smoke was
coming out. No reference―
to smiles and tears.
15 october 2025
wiesiek
15 october 2025
Jaga
14 october 2025
wiesiek
13 october 2025
Jaga
13 october 2025
wiesiek
12 october 2025
wiesiek
11 october 2025
wiesiek
10 october 2025
wiesiek
8 october 2025
ajw
8 october 2025
ajw