Blossoms form
fruits for the trees.
A wind that blows through the leaves;
rustling
like wrapped paper
riding on concrete floors.
And all that is known
will become known
as was known before.
 
For years have passed,
and in bright days,
moonlight glitters,
night remains.
 
Sounds may echo
of sirens, screams,
breaking doors,
batons thumping,
cracking wooden floors.
Though something remains,
behind the noise.
A presence that blows sweetly,
like a soft breeze over still waters.
 
Nights may seem to linger.
but the light continues to remain.

  • 0
  • 0
  •  
  •  
Login to comment...
Email

Other works by Esther Yasmin Groeneveld...

Some poets followed by Esther Yasmin Groeneveld...

Jorge Luis Borges Lance nathan conrad J Ann Crowder Vic Robert L. Martin Ingeborg von Finsterwalde/Waltraud I Mack