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"Literature is not made of words but of life; it is life that found a way to survive on paper, so when you hold and read a poem, you hold and read som..
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"Solitude is letting a broken seashell scratch your foot, irritate the skin a little, and watch the cool water take its place; loneliness is to blindl..
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The cat’s eye gave up its mission,
And still wrapped in yellow satin,
Inside my pocket grew cold.
With the stone was gone my heart
T..
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From under my torn beret,
I surveyed my poem’s travels
From cold hand to air to puddle
To dancing petroleum stains, to filth, to suburb..
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From my collection "Women: Little Moments in Time"
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From my collection "Women: Little Moments in Time"
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No, winter, stay far,
Spare me from your icy coat,
Allow dead leaves to fall and float
As autumn blows out its breeze.
Let the palette of ..
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A short poem from my collection "Women: Little Moments in Time"
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