Smell of dull incense
Coiled in the dying-out street
Late passers-by don't stop anymore
Cackling at her offspring
Like a hen would at her chicks
She chides them into place around the table
The moon uninvited came Smelling of daffodils, her lips sweet red wine Swaying her hips like a lover
No comments:
Post a Comment
Avis sur la chose en question
Feedback on the thing in question