|
|
UNTITLED
On this summer day that is not
one of the brittle blaring days
but a soft and gentle one,
leaves tremble and twinkle
in the crepe myrtle trees
and red brick gleams like jasper.
Magpies patrol the grass, and doves call
from somewhere in the distance, and it seems
as if such lucky days in a country still lucky
for some, will break my heart.
back
|
