By Tabassam Shah @tabassamshahpoetry

A Punctual October
159

V

On this long storm,
On this late morn;
The clouds,
Horizons straggled.

The birds rose
The gales done;
The heedless eyes
the summer done!

The quiet
can bestir not
The slow arch
HELLO, I’M TEXT

VI

My color eases
I feel the air;
A dim capacity for winging it
Degrades the rear view

A power must be
to fly,
Meadows conede
And sweep sky.

So I must hint
the sign,
And make blunder,
HELLO, I’M TEXT