My Ls, my Vs,
My Zs and my Ds
I pick up
From the floor
Where I last
Found them broken
Scattered like
Leaves of autumn.
Cold and parched
They lie
Their veins honed
Freckles deepened
In dust and mud
Boot stamped
String them together
I walk back.
1 comment:
The lines flow through the layers of life we accumulated over time. Keep going Aarti! You'll be a poet yet...
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