We will walk
Where the sun drips like honey,
Just past,
The horizon.
How, in only our eyes
I see the birth
Of every moment.
What do we say
When we look away?
Will we yet be
As the dust in summer?
Childish,
In the roots,
Of an olive tree.
We will walk
Where the sun drips like honey,
Just past,
The horizon.
How, in only our eyes
I see the birth
Of every moment.
What do we say
When we look away?
Will we yet be
As the dust in summer?
Childish,
In the roots,
Of an olive tree.
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Beautiful poem. Great job! Loved it!
Thank you, kindly.
Very surreal imagery in the first stanza. “What do we say when we look away…” That line is illicits thoughts that are pregnant with possibilities.
Beautiful.
Very surreal imagery in the first stanza.
“What do we say when we look away…”
That line illicits thoughts that are pregnant with possibilities.
Beautifully done.