Borce Panov

Rookie (27.09.1967 / Radovish, Republic of Macedonia)

The White Cherry Tree Grafts - Poem by Borce Panov

I'm waking up on the night page
while my grandma is leafing through its pages
and my cheerful grandpa
is grafting white cherry tree brunches
onto the ripen red chery tree brunches
for me.
I don't remember this
because you are neither dead nor alive
if the dream in your head is thumbing itself.
I woke up by the silkwarms' room
while my mother
was unfolding the tread of silence
then, she was weaving the day on loom for silk
by telling me
that my grandma's book of the dreams renditions
under her pillow
is a book forever open
to graft the meaning
of our dreams...
and between two books
it lives in our family
like a guardian angel.
Because you are neither dead nor alive
if the dream in your head is thumbing itself.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about The White Cherry Tree Grafts by Borce Panov

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Poem Edited: Wednesday, November 30, 2011


[Report Error]