Like cutting my own
blue thumb, a crazy thought
to earn rare wisdom.
Was there any option
not to climb your beautiful
eyes sans scaffolding?
The frosted looks of
the moon brings shivers in
the darkened room.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: December 30th, 2020 20:43
- Category: Nature
- Views: 30
- User favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek.
Offline)
Comments1
'What a thrill -
My thumb instead of an onion.
The top quite gone
Except for a sort of hinge'
wrote Sylvia in her 'Cut'
https://mypoeticside.com/show-classic-poem-22437
and your words too:
cut, straight through me at first read,
seeped - deep within at second read
and forced me to click that favourite icon on third read...
thanks for sharing your unquestionable talent dear Poet
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