3 june 2023
So Much To Think
You swirl around
my poems to enter old nest.
I do not know how to pray.
I will backtrack
to find my footprints in
your glistening eyes.
To admire the purity
of flame, I taste red berries
of firethorn. You recite
a sacred hymn.
No name was needed
for unknown agony of your mind.
Neither you will muse
nor I will write.
Every December snow
becomes a shroud.
3 october 2023
Eva T.
3 october 2023
Satish Verma
1 october 2023
Jaga
1 october 2023
Satish Verma
30 september 2023
Jack Strange
30 september 2023
Jack Strange
30 september 2023
Jaga
30 september 2023
Jack Strange
30 september 2023
Eva T.
30 september 2023
Satish Verma