Bustards

let it rain my fist is full of sunshine grain
I feed the red bustards in my chest
otherwise they would fly against the odds
life’s precious moments
swelled like silk worms’ cocoons
we need both rain and sunshine
but we don’t need red bustards
I’m afraid to speak ungracious words
because they would fall on the ground
and any seed can germinate on fertile soil

in this night of the iguana love is still here
and the rest is silence

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Categories: My Poems in 2015, Uncategorized | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

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