The Morning Was Late

Poem By Ivona Sophia

The morning was late.
I didn’t even have the time to rub my eyes
Already woken by the afternoon wind.
I’m running to you
By the damp edge of the day
Between the dew drops
I spill words from my sleeve
Like magicians pull pigeons
And you sip coffee and don’t even glance
At how the sky above us turns blue.

Comments about The Morning Was Late

beautiful.. what a joy you are, Ivona, Sx

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Other poems of SOPHIA


it continuously rains

you sleep
your breath calms the shadows

Everywhere In The World

everywhere in the world there are motels
with empty parking lots
waiting for couples
temporarily in love


the walls musty from humidity,
a dreary day
dusk pushes itself
under our clothes


your hands
clenched into fists
ten fingers
on which there still lie

Wild Strawberries

Wild strawberries
String together
On the long grass
Smell like a summer day

In Your Hands

In your hands
I am silk
Under the smooth stitch of fingers
I fold willingly.