You who visit me
In the dead of the night
Away from prying eyes
To close the day
And open tender folds of moonlight
To remember another
In a faraway land
To close hurt
By inflicting me with fresh stabs
You who visit me
With numerous feet
Disappear at dawn
Leave footprints and money
to be blown away soon
By October's wind
I, whom you visit
Called by numerous names
And you of numerous feet
Have no name
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He who visited you
ReplyDeleteplease don't despise
He who visited you
blushed at your smile
He who visited you
has a name
He who visited you
wishes you success
He who visited you
apologize ... :-)
Hey Hari,
ReplyDeleteGood collection of your poems...I liked this one most from the list.
Cheers
Matou