(23 June 1889 – 5 March 1966 / Odessa)

If The Moon On The Skies Does Not Roam

If the moon on the skies does not roam,
But cools, like a seal above,
My dead husband enters the home
To read the letters of love.

He remembers the box, made of oak,
With the lock, very secret and odd,
And spreads through a floor the stroke
Of his feet in the iron bond.

He watches the times of the meetings
And the signatures' blurry set.
Hasn't had he sufficiently grievings
And pains in this word until that?

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Comments (2)

He watches the times of the meetings And the signatures' blurry set. Hasn't had he sufficiently grievings And pains in this word until that? very nice poem and expressions. tony
It is a nice poem. But I love 'departure' and 'everything' more Anaswara