Solid Poem by Sridala Swami

Solid



With those two heavy hands of his
he'd like to make a bird,
dark-eyed, delicate, quick-breathing.

But the bones turn into boxes.
Geometry breaks
the heart.
So he makes cages.

Sridala Swami
Saturday, February 17, 2018
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Poems By Sridala Swami
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g_h_ngt_
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