a very needing pruning

by hiraeth   Dec 29, 2020

your tongue is the lands where
i harvest sugarcanes and dates
from, in secrecy.

under the watchful gaze of the
crescent moon that wedged
herself on your lips –

i earnestly toil, unplucking the
strings from your rootbound heart,
flooding it with fresh dew before
replanting it in a vast land with fertile
soils where greens and love
are one and the same.


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

  • 3 months ago

    by Mr. Darcy

    Congratulations on this. I always like your work, though, I am often stunned by the brilliance to know how to comment. A simple, well done, never seems suffice.

    I like the phrasing and the metaphors. The tongue is the writers voice, right? Harvesting the inspirational words from a place far away, away from view. I like the imagery of the crescent moon being turned to follow the contours of lips, like a smile, perhaps? The 'unplucking' could be the deciphering passages of text or poetry? This text, this voice sounds wounded and your efforts (earnestly toil) is gentle and nurturing, using skill and love to grow what feels right and familiar.

    As always, your work is an inspiration to me.

  • 3 months ago

    by Skyfire

    Just lovely! Congratulations on the win.

  • 3 months ago

    by Rania Moallem


People Who Liked This Also Liked