On one of
the branches hangs a lonely leaf
In the
period of senescence.
Wrinkled,
retarded, tired of its time
Covered with
dust from its golden days.
Only noticed
by the rays of sun
That sieve
out through the dead branches
Looks down
at an unawaken dog
That still
might love its shade.
What would
be this poor leaf thinking
Of life, of
death, or of strong blows?
Or would it
just being seeking blessings
Under the
sun's and moon's gaze?
this poetry is so intricate and at the same tym so tender.... you are a designer!!
ReplyDeleteThanks Sakshi. :)
DeleteEveryone will be going through this phase.... and this phase will be coming in to everyone's life sooner than they expect.
ReplyDeleteQuite predictable.
DeleteEveryone will be going through this phase.... and this phase will be coming in to everyone's life sooner than they expect.
ReplyDelete