Twilight Poem by Tom Billsborough
Twilight
Ce crépuscule doux, rose,
Comme la peau des femmes
me serre dans ses bras.
Au lointain, j'écoute le cri
Solitaire d'un hibou dans les bois.
Il est aussi captivé
et prépare son vol de silence,
parfait pour le poème
et le baiser de violence.
Tuesday, June 26, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: love,son
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
translation The twilight, soft and pink as the flesh of women, hugs me.
In the distance I hear the lone cry of an owl in the woods. He is also entranced and prepares his silent flight, perfect for the poem and the kiss of violence.
In the distance I hear the lone cry of an owl in the woods. He is also entranced and prepares his silent flight, perfect for the poem and the kiss of violence.
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8/28/2026 12:04:47 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
