A Note Poem by Quaid-Uz- Zaman
A Note
peace, if it descends from somewhere
or evolves within;
sorrows in blue feathers alighting on my chilly hands;
i give wheat grains, corn flakes,
i know not where they come from and how they take off gently.
Sunday, September 11, 2022
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7/19/2025 9:52:28 PM # 1.0.0
