Tuesday, July 07, 2015

On a Medium-Sized Summer Day

I'm the tinkles
in the afternoon breeze.
I'm the dust on the leaf.
I am among
the drifting needles
blown from the
dry, dying fir
that towers over the street,
or one of the nameless
black things
caught between throbbing
green gelatin sacks
on a leaf.


At 9:46 AM, Blogger Zoha Umar said...

WOW! This is really deep. Lived the read very much!
Thanks for publishing! Do read my poems too.


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