Nr 8
It is a dark, cold morning
and you are leaving.
Light, billowing clouds
empty of words
come out of our mouths
And then you are gone
Heading back
I walk in your foot-prints
feeling your body move
in mine
a wolf wind
blowing the horizon aflame
Poetry by fazza
Read 1155 times
Written on 2005-10-30 at 11:50




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Christian Ward |
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R.K.Singh |
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