The Accordionist
The accordionist (haikus)
To the accordionist playing on the streets of my hometown, Agrinio, Greece
Nectar of a tune.
A bee am I, harvesting
my memories’ buds.
A bitter tune.
Pollen on the wind’s eyes,
in the shape of tears.
Tripping the sound is
into the veins of my soul.
A rosy sunset.
Silence scented sound.
Aura of angels anoints
my prayers.
Sliding the tune is
Through the fingers of my heart.
Travails of a poem.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment