Keyhole

In  briefly read history of death
We would encounter memories.
A pair of bookish eyes squinted
In keyhole at the hallway’s end.

Memories are lies tucked to bed
Like kids, to sleep before demon
Gets them in old grandma story,
A grave you reach by a memory.

(Reading a history of death by Nir Baram)

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

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

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s