Alive Poem by Meena Iyer
Alive
A heave of breath,
Slowly rising and falling,
A mind numbing, blood curdling,
Breast thumping cry....
This night will never end,
Like squirrel we scamper,
Trying to find cover. We fail. As always!
Our bodies,
A live canvas,
Red. Blue.
Enmeshed with
Streaks of brown and black.
Visually alive.
Spiritually dead.
Chronicles of a my life
A facsimile of yours
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 8:00:52 PM # 1.0.0.1119
