Journal Pejorian's Journal: Poem: "Holy Week"
Holy Week
The bus drivers, smoking and laughing,
Cast long shadows in the spring morning.
A bird's liquid call, from a blossomed branch,
Finds me through the sound of traffic.
Holy Week
The bus drivers, smoking and laughing,
Cast long shadows in the spring morning.
A bird's liquid call, from a blossomed branch,
Finds me through the sound of traffic.
Poem: "Holy Week" More Login
Poem: "Holy Week"
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