when silence is a swan
that has turned away from dying
and the moon is drying up her wings
like a newborn butterfly...
I love your taste of autumn!
I like your attempt at self reassurance. I like the way the speaker in your poem tries to keep a grip on knwing her/himself. Thanks for the read.
This is beautiful as well, Alexandre. I like the way you eventually noramlize lines of life- on face and in palm- and project them to a future and hope.