Look At Me, Tree.

  Look at me O withered tree, I’d read you like a book, Your fallen branches woo me, They pull me to have a better look. . What secrets do you hide? What times have your branches seen? Through people passing, Through seasons changing, While steady you have been. . You attempt to scare young...

The Super Moon

On a ball of shiny matter, A spectrum of feelings, Some hopes, some healings. I see it through the window, It sleeps in the lap of stars, How irrelevant then seem its scars. I gaze at the grey, scarred ball, And get lost in it soon, It hypnotizes- that super moon! A world of deep...