Philomel's Song Poem by Mandira Mitra
Philomel's Song
Sunday morning. I dust my alphabets to a shine
To build you a dainty rhyme.But you wake up
Red-eyed from your nightmare
Like the Loch-ness monster.
You'll be sorry later, but that
Orange -flared breath in your eyes
Scorched my wafer thin poems
To paper thin sighs.
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: comforting
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4/24/2024 4:31:46 AM # 1.0.0.1119
