(1) Before The Music Ends
Words paint a fragile picture of the dusk.
I think them to a poet far away.
The light shines dim upon my windowpane.
A few tears fall like blue rain in the mind.
Our time has been short listed by sunset,
No matter that the weather has its way,
The stresses live within their measurement,
And distance is a gift we give ourselves.
This moment is designed to be as spare
And elegant as winter's old, gnarled trees.
I trust you to translate my whispers, Friend
And send them back before the music ends.
Sandra Fowler's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem ((1) Before The Music Ends by Sandra Fowler )
- थिरिँ बिरिँ #55, Ronjoy Brahma
- Snail, Barati Lesetlhe
- Holy Mother -Saroda, The Emblem Of Kali .., Bazi alis Subrata Ray
- थिरिँ बिरिँ #54, Ronjoy Brahma
- मेगनआव गोग्लैदोँ, Ronjoy Brahma
- Sun, Barati Lesetlhe
- Moon, Barati Lesetlhe
- Letters to the heart...., Nandipha Mphanya
- In each day's silent need (Italian sonnet), Gert Strydom
- Despair, Gert Strydom
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