Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2015
Daubed wet, the horizon blue,

featureless:
three stripes of wet green
ascending in

wet sands of the bank river
winding, dancing ripples

little red rose smiling shy
behind rows of wet grass

rain is the smell of earth
cast wide, love is

staring at the impossible gulf
wanting to cross puddles
Prabhu Iyer
Written by
Prabhu Iyer  Quantum Dot
(Quantum Dot)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems