Walking Poem by Thomas Roose

Walking



No words, just salten.
No waves to weave through.
Only aglets on eyelets,
but bird song boons.

The pollen percolates
a moment to muse.
However, a tension
even quarks
can't sift through.

Thomas Roose
Friday, May 5, 2023
Topic(s) of this poem: poem,poetry,relationship
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