Posted in Poetry

beginning

Look at the sky and find a day moon,

Go and catch the borrower with a pin,

Tell me where all pasts have gone,

Or who has tricked the fire demon,

Teach me to hear nature’s whisper,

And to walk in the sky, beautiful.

Author:

I write stuff of my interest that does not interest anyone in my blog. No grammarians, no copy editors, no marketers, no cynics are welcome.

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