miyako73
08-31-2010, 02:33 AM
Your stare, fixed and still,
beyond the tree branches
greening the new leaves
among the reddish fruits
ripening in the earnest sun,
is not mute with syllables
that tell me what poets see
but fail to say because lips,
their whisper, their tongue
are agonies and torments
to whoever invented words.
beyond the tree branches
greening the new leaves
among the reddish fruits
ripening in the earnest sun,
is not mute with syllables
that tell me what poets see
but fail to say because lips,
their whisper, their tongue
are agonies and torments
to whoever invented words.