Somonka For Travelers

The myrtle blossomed,  

There, I sent you a petal.

A piece of summer.

From far away, can you hear?

This is how I say your name. 


Who called me just now?

Is it the rain, soft on leaves?

A dove with no nest?

With the summer, she calls me.

Out of silence, love has bloomed.

Comments 0
Loading...