Apr 2021
Burnt out matchsticks
from the dark hours wind
theirs were a bunker
that bare
no malice nor loss
only a blotched memory
light-years apart
these days
that day
and those days.
from the dark hours wind
theirs were a bunker
that bare
no malice nor loss
only a blotched memory
light-years apart
these days
that day
and those days.
(M/South Africa)
Please log in to view and add comments on poems
