...in the vineyards of Edgar Alan Poe...
His
coffin
I carry
in a satchel
just so his mildewed bones will not see light.
His tombstone I balance on my shoulder
black hat askance
tattered clothes
dead man
walk.
Waiting for the next Halloween to be worded. Beautiful perspective of fantacising the ideas. Imagery is so cool, it appears as reality and metaphors got the classic montage to glorify the past.Fantastic in one word. As if we the readers are really at the seashore in a windy night dreaming the whole. The form is appropriate to move with the spirit of writing. Put my pleasure of reading by digit 10++++ Regards, pranab
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An excellent poem my friend. Perfect