The rain sounds out the road, into the windy streets, The cosmos of walking. In the end we hear the decibels Of the sun, without the roots Of dust. Till then, Life is the square of tree and moon, A squint, a DIY cassette, A messy aim, a stupefied grin, and perfection. That’s why there are stars, Over and over love is something else.
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naïve haircuts 
Lovely poem… Bob..
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Thanks Singh. Your comments are always appreciated.
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I love the first stanza and, of course, the last line is superb. Bravo.
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Thank you, not only for this wonderful comment, but for all your support. I really do appreciate it.
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My pleasure. And I appreciate your support, as well. Have a happy Sunday!
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Brilliant … inspirational stuff …
“Till then,
I write chance.
Life is the square of tree and moon.”
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Thank you. Glad you liked it.
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always rocking
the best similes & metaphors –
life, but tweaked, never twisted.
Aces x
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Thanks.
“The only thing I knew how to do
Was to keep on keepin’ on
Like a bird that flew
Tangled up in blue”
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Very well written, thank you for posting it.
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Thank you so much. I’m very glad you liked it.
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