The snow whispers around me
And my wooden clogs
Leave holes behind me in the snow.
But no one will pass this way
Seeking my footsteps,
And when the temple bell rings again
They will be covered and gone.
Leave a guest comment (subject to review)
Comments
-
This one doesn't do much for me. It's a poem that requires a lot of thought, but the esthetic appeal is lacking. I like a bit of music in my poems. Or at least something striking.
Adding your comment:
