Jul 3
2 min read
Poetry | Nature
Moringa
Prose Poem
As I take gentle strides on my modest terrace to give some time to myself and get some fresh air, I see tall edifices around me … I sense suppressed voices in these structures. Maybe, someone else will think the same about my house if they take a walk on their terrace.
I see the usual sights … the wavy clotheslines, a crow or two cawing and flying here…
