The Man Poem by Dorina Neculce
The Man
the man of the time
the day will pass
like a flickered
of eyelids thorniest
and a man beyond time
casting out
a hand in the sky
by jagged curtains
will dizzy
the ghosts worlds
in his hands
My fountain of love
was and is
a purple flower
of rust
with sleep
in pigeonholes of gold
Thursday, August 17, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: archaeology
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4/18/2024 8:02:11 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A purple flower! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
thank you very much, Edward!