Iris Schomaker
Ko. machiyama
zichao hou
Yves Crenn
What little wind there is, cold
A car passes, unknown passengers
The temporary warming light
Soon gone disappeared
Hand fishing for keys in pockets
Through a door into shade
The empty streets replaced
Peter Ilsted
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before
Henri Lebasque
***
1. line - t. s. eliot
2. line - m.holloway
3. line- EDGAR ALLAN POE
1. line - t. s. eliot
ReplyDelete2. line - m.holloway
3. line- EDGAR ALLAN POE