Paradise
Let me be an old man in Anatolia
Resting on a white plastic chair,
Saintly in a white starched shirt
Drinking tea from a glass that has
Curves like a woman, watching
Children and traffic, nodding at the
Shadows, a friend of dust and
Thin Cats, weightless as a moth
On running water, silent with the
Grace of years, half asleep.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
