Whispering Wind
We stand in the wind as if its bite has no effect.
Daring it to knock us level to the ground.
We mock the naked trees and envy the tumbleweed.
Still the vacated cave can't stop its whispers.
When a Poet Dies
-
What do you do when a poet dies?
When Maya died Oh how I cried.
Who will give us the words from the other side.
A poet, a scribe, a teacher, a preacher, a...
11 years ago
No comments:
Post a Comment