Anonymity Poem by Hanan Muzafar
Anonymity
Holding sand in hand,
How despair looks,
mud after rain;
like a kid roaming mad,
through empty lanes,
with boots on fire, and coins in coat;
To bury them, where there's oak.
Earth waiting for him,
to take him back,
Voices out of narrow lanes;
Autumn blaze, chrome face,
and golden glaze:
Hiding behind nooks,
vanishing out of furnace.
Saturday, March 13, 2021
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5/18/2024 12:56:23 AM # 1.0.0.1119
