with tender breeze in spring, boughs
across the orchards, gently swing
like waves of arms departing
like long white fingers, ringed
in rich blooms, spreadin slow
apart, and movin back along
in wide arches, to appease
time and breath
Easter Air!
2004/2016 © Neran Sati
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem