the sticks under my bare feet are wet
with dew from the shore below i’ve
walked and have spoken silence
to my mind and cannot
reconcile or come
to an accord
sing to me
gently
soul
the sticks under my bare feet are wet
with dew from the shore below i’ve
walked and have spoken silence
to my mind and cannot
reconcile or come
to an accord
sing to me
gently
soul
Poeta! A fading love amongst fading words? That’s the beauty of writing isn’t? Thanks for sharing
LikeLike
Very kind Poeta, thank you ☺
LikeLike