Time. Marches on;
tasting the blood of hikers,
who would not─
reach the summit.
*
Red clover.
I walk under the black
moon to light─
the fire.
*
Meet me
sometime, in the half way
house, I have forgotten
my name.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: July 1st, 2017 20:25
- Category: Nature
- Views: 11
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.