Wednesday, December 14, 2022

STEPPE

 The sun bids farewell by taking its golden color,

Touching your temples like a busse in autumn.

Not by passing innocent people like that,

It leaves a warm smile to every living thing,

But cold, people are “sometimes” deceived.

Because human scent

It is in front of the sun’s autumn hello.

H.A.


Morning grace

 In the mornings  My heart opens up, My thoughts that drown They come alive  My voice clears My tears dry up All I can say is...... I have n...