Manchester moth

de joeyedoeye în Poezii în Engleză 0 comentarii

The sleepy homeless slip the northern city shafts
And faintly squirm the whites inside the dirty duvets
Hovering dwellers trying to forget these foul offsets
Naught must disgust the dying buds, the eating crafts

From open outlets steam out humid smells and spices
No frost will breeze from hills above, from enclosed spaces
The lukewarm winter lingers in between the stretching hedges
A shapeless earthwool flourishes atop the over-flowing edges

The spinning earth threads out the twisted branches
Stitching the ray of roads, the caterpillar lances
Hush lil’ birds, these cotton balls, the still born flowers
Ornate the open lawns, last year’s moss and mold, damp hours


0 Comentarii

La această poezie nu au fost adăugate comentarii, fii primul!

Pentru a lăsa comentarii este nevoie să te autentifici. Nu ai cont? Deschide unul!