With My Eyes Poem by Nassy Fesharaki
With My Eyes
With my eyes
It's morning with its chill
In a line for the bus stands he
As vulture,
Scary head and neck
In the sun, in desert
And his hands are his wings
Loose, fallen, dare, scare
Dead are all good news
Has no hope and cares less.
On branch, branches a chorus
Singing birds
"Winter's gone, let's fly; celebrate'"
They Jump, sing.
And cloud in sky is witness
So am I with my eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/16/2024 5:42:00 PM # 1.0.0.1119
