Poetry

In this land
In this air
Where these trees grow
With dignity and vigor
A rebellious flame
Runs over the scales of the dark fence.
Where the air is fresh
And the trees grow thin,
In this land, now
Hate runs in festering wounds
Flows in the liquid air
Anger screams in the quiet night
And darkness falls with our tears.

Poet: [ Dennis Brutus / South Africa, 1924-2009 ]

A nurse who is interested in poetry and literature and works in the field of yoga and meditation 🤍 🧘🏻‍♂️☕️📚