Aspirations To The Mandate Of Heaven Poem by Holden Solo

Aspirations To The Mandate Of Heaven



Lying quietly
in the
tall cool grass
on the hill
over-looking
the sleepy little town
you once called
home,

a warm breeze
drifts, and blows
over -

so that your words
slip silently
away from me

and I know not
when you'll dare
repeat them again.

READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success