A shadow I see
of my own hand plodding
some lines about you
in memories only
are you nesting
behind veil of a moon
or as mist
stuck unto some rose
or swishing past still
as whiff of fresh air
with your skirt whirl
oh,how in sweet oblivion
to this day
you make me swirl…
.
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Compact yet intense.If poetry was for imbibing,then “Hemline” would be a rather good single malt whisky from the glens.
After posting a poem ,one always looks forward to the comments by Louis Kasatkin which gives a further impetus to write.Such is the power of his pen and please read the above comment to know what I mean.