Untitled Comments

Thank you, Mr. Frosini! Your words are kind. There is no poem worth a martyr, a madman said once. And I add, there is no poem like mother's fingers which knead the daily bread, no words like the stars extinguishing in oblivion as the moon continues to shine...

Thank you for reading my words. I would be interested in knowing what title you would suggest. This poem came to me many nights back, with moon stinging my fingers, I wrote...