The swills of nature
have gathered their wits.
Seven pigeons
on hotel coves
have opened
their wings
to look past
wooden crates
being moved out
of the apartments
and those lying
during the day
over crinkled
cotton bedsheets.
***
Seven days
have gone
with thoughts
of the coldest days
of winter
coming soon
to rattle and hum.
***
The swills of nature
have gathered their
defences
for warmer reflections.
You
are still
at the terminal
swilling
inconstant smiles
and nervous terror
on your
Freedom.
***
You and I
will never be
like the pigeons.
Friends like
the two of us
together
always have
a little of
the coldest parts
of winter
to crinkle
their days with.
People like us
are the ones
in apartments
facing those coves
where those
free birds
rest
before opening their
eyes and wings
to flutter
with the irregular melodies
we give them
to return
back to us.
***
YOU ARE READING
WORDS ON THE HORIZON
PoetryI present to you my new collection of poems which will be reflective of my present states of mind and compel me to translate my deepest desires and waves of thoughts, brimming with emotions. ...
