Long Call From The North
My present dwell :
The tears of the sky touches seldomly
Leaving me with the sun's pounding rays,
Its unbearable flame
My pores ,at the glare
Of the post meridian light– a river
The wind therein
Flings at me its burning gust
Causing my weary eyes to flicker,
Flickering a dying flare
And when cold, zillion goosebumps
Race down my body;
Quavering my pouted lips
Like a vibrating iron string.
Every fiber within prickles to see its source
To find solace in Mama's arm
To feel Baba's caring pat
Yet, days I breath on gets long
Nights stays awoke;
Won't leave posthaste
Tick-tock, tick-tock,
Faster is the snail
Zubair Muslim
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 07/21/2020
The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets.
Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.