so goes the
poem
with a few words
carefully chosen,
not perfect
like spring
or first snow
but a thread
of glances,
silent eyes
and
listening ears
reflecting on
places
in exile
or the
familiar
where
stories take
shape
and songs
transport
so goes the
poem
with a few words
carefully chosen,
not perfect
like spring
or first snow
but a thread
of glances,
silent eyes
and
listening ears
reflecting on
places
in exile
or the
familiar
where
stories take
shape
and songs
transport
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Comments1
wonderful, resonates with me at least
thanks for sharing
Thank you for kind comments
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