Breeze Of The Cursing Night Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
Breeze Of The Cursing Night
Slow
Slow
Breeze of the cursing
Night:
I, the Poet Seer
Am in the cemetery.
Yawning and
Creaking
From here
From there
It be past midnight
In such deep
Everywhere.
For
Slow
Slow
Breeze of the cursing
Night:
I, the Poet Seer
Am in the cemetery.
Wednesday, February 10, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: life,night
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4/26/2024 4:45:07 AM # 1.0.0.1119
