17 september 2019
It Was No Magic
When you would be absent,
O Druid, I will know you better.
Time leaps my watch―
I have become blind.
It was not enough to
read― that was not written yet.
I am coming down the mountain
to meet the dust.
Life was not very kind to me.
Too much undoings had given
me a white sheet to―
write the names of fugitives.
I sweep the floor, I wash
the black earth and shut―
the windows. Too much knowing
had made me a dwarf.
25 april 2024
2504wiesiek
25 april 2024
QuartzSatish Verma
24 april 2024
The End StartsSatish Verma
23 april 2024
Three poemsAdam Pietras (Barry Kant)
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