Our bodies must produce sand
to block our sight
opening our senses
to the unembodied
shifting sands within.
The other senses remain
interchanging positions.
I can taste a Mama Cass song.
Smell the sun erasing its light.
Feel the overwhelming
orange blossom's breath.
Watch time dancing again.
Smell the sun erasing its light...... ............................................ Chery, very beautiful poems.......10........ Best wishes, Tsira
I like this..... 'I can taste a Mama Cass song.' great economy of style and depth....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very well expressed words of pure gold, your lines are filled with wonderful flow of warmth Lovely piece Jon