How do I carry the
moon, wherever I go to search
you between the clouds.
Gradually, thoughts
become homeless. Can't catch
the wheezing flies.
Blaming self, the trunk
dies inside. No sap will
rise. No glue will roll.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: March 6th, 2023 20:17
- Category: Nature
- Views: 8
Offline)
Comments1
I read this twice but the metaphors drown the meaning so I really have no idea what it is about.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.