Blog Archives

Three poems by Abbey Khambule

Winter and a dream The city street is neon cold He flashes light through my window On the wall it sits like a door Opening and closing to a flurry of muffled voices The laughter of children I fall into

Google GmailTumblrFacebookPinterestTwitterWhatsApp
Tagged with:
Posted in Uncategorized

Poems by Abbey Khambule

guns of daughters she parades the free maidan, sampling cadences of silence beneath the falling vacuity; she slew him cold with a serrate stare, and foul lager spilled from his throat like blood of a lamb; tobacco in the air

Google GmailTumblrFacebookPinterestTwitterWhatsApp
Tagged with:
Posted in Poetry
Archives