Saint Poem by Mina Lotfi

Saint



Wood and a pen knife
In swinging hand
Imagaine a future
Spirit has blown to it
It is small crave
Mother, saint Maryam and a kid
Looking outside of being
More than a cast and a word
Emblem of himself
Again singing from whom
On this wooden dim lines

Mina Lotfi
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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