Cup
There is a reasonits called a cup
one just holds it
from both of one's
hands and
sup from it.
While she looks on
still wondering.
That mind of hers
takes a lot of time
to wind down
and chime with
the easy strokes
of my breath.
Poetry by Sona
Read 43 times
Written on 2024-10-09 at 18:01
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
