June 14, 2016July 24, 2016

when the willow

below a surface there I weep

the willow bellows to make it known

my lips spit smiles at the sun

and keep within and keep withheld

for no matter how much I drain these eyes

the birds still sing when the willows dead.

Enter your comment here...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Email (required) (Address never made public)

Name (required)

Website

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Google account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this:

Mariam Sulakian