at our feet
Time is the black milk
we drink
morning
noon
& night
Our skin hammers
hard walls
seeking water &
adding petals
Sun flares
bloody red, hot oilseeds
on ground
One blindman's word above leaded sky:
flower
Picture credit: here
Posted for the Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Featuring the work by Paul Celan. The post is inspired by his poem, Flower.
and Poets United - Thanks for the visit ~
