25 november 2020
The Accidental Fall
My bronzed speech is available,
accepting the defeat of daffodils.
I will not write an elegy.
The postpartum blues are over,
I am coming out of the crib,
like a new born poem.
Floating the paper lanterns, at
night, on flowing river, to send the
message to moon. No more the beach will cry.
The triangular nuts will
speak of the hurricanes, protecting
the hairy seeds.
No resistance was needed
to stop the invading army of black
ants, ready to tear the dummies.
26 january 2021
Satish Verma
25 january 2021
jeśli tylko
25 january 2021
wiesiek
25 january 2021
Renato N. Mascardo
25 january 2021
Satish Verma
24 january 2021
wiesiek
24 january 2021
Satish Verma
24 january 2021
jeśli tylko
23 january 2021
wiesiek
23 january 2021
Satish Verma