31 august 2017
Tapers
It went through me
the hot day;
vaulting back.
at night.
To hustle the poetry things.
Weary of the luminous
dials. I want to
think in dark.
*
The bookcase was empty.
Croaking words
had departed for
greener pastures.
Hold on.
I am coming to
defuse the grenades.
23 april 2024
2304wiesiek
23 april 2024
Three poemsAdam Pietras (Barry Kant)
22 april 2024
2204wiesiek
22 april 2024
Echoes TravelSatish Verma
21 april 2024
od wewnątrzsam53
21 april 2024
2104wiesiek
21 april 2024
Picking RelicsSatish Verma
20 april 2024
To Dying MuseSatish Verma
19 april 2024
The VoyagerSatish Verma
18 april 2024
ItinerantSatish Verma