the humming (hear !).


Spring scratching

softly at the door
like an old

vinyl record

releasing a tune
under the sharp

needle of the sun’s

The seasons have

torn through time’s

roughed-up asphalt,
now hear the hum

of Spring’s riding
and dust speck

and twilights
caught in the eye

pulling tears

and they grow

on the walls,

I hear

Spring on the run,

gotta hold on tight,

you know.
I hear

Spring humming

at the door,
pulling flowers

out of the cracks

in the wall.
I hear

Spring humming softly
a note

on the door.













Photo: Elif TIG ~



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s