Guardian Shadow 3 Poem by Mohammed Dib
Guardian Shadow 3
Do not ask
if the wind trailing
along the peaks
fans a hearth;
if it is a bonfire
if it is a poor man's fire
or a sentinel's signal.
Fabulous women who
close your doors, still
still soaked in night, dream on.
I walk, I walk:
the words I carry
on my tongue make
a strange report.
Thursday, September 25, 2014
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4/30/2024 3:35:01 AM # 1.0.0.1119
