Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2019
Maybe you, and maybe me,
yellowed memory receives
fallen warm to fever pitch
drowning in the sun's remembrance,
So maybe I and maybe the sea
can find some solace in silken sleep
past insomniac rivers and indolent speech
(Rays of spring 
filter shadow marigold
orange trees
bluely sway 
rivers - in 
dreams sense dies 
to ambiguity).
Dirt Witch
Written by
Dirt Witch
  331
   Merinda, Surbhi Dadhich and SPT
Please log in to view and add comments on poems