Rupture
A
Anil Kumar Panda
0
Altın Yaprak
Standing at the doorway
Inhaling essence of raw leaves
In my repose I capture you in
The tiny irises of my mother's eyes
Petals twirl around buds
To disrobe later when a canopy
Of Spring lends you shade as a bride
Fingers are tender stalks
Colored with sparse romance
As you are laid on the conjugal bed
Blind night helps in
Wiping away remorse of a
Meek surrender in its soundless flow
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş