between two tall skeletons of birches
i walk right into the heart of mid-autumn
with the city gate as my starting point
but without any predetermined destination
along a less frequently trodden trail
i keep traveling behind my own soul
each time I climb onto a little ridge
i see another higher up just ahead
it is not a question of uphill or downhill
nor a choice between two different roads
once standing on the peak to look back
i find all mountains so surprisingly small
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Photograph of My Father in His Twenty-Second Year by Raymond Carver
- Oblivion by Satish Verma
- Telephone Conversation by Wole Soyinka
- Tu Fu – Tu Fu
- “What weeping, or what dewfall,” by Torquato Tasso
- In the Carpenter’s Shop by Sara Teasdale
- Robert Burns: Verses On Captain Grose: Written on an Envelope, enclosing a Letter to Him.
- Why the Young Men Are So Ugly by Tony Hoagland
- Sonnet. Written In Disgust Of Vulgar Superstition poem – John Keats poems
- Mr. Apollinax by T. S. Eliot
- all-days-seem-same.html
- Love Sonnet XLII poem – Zora Bernice May Cross poems
- Владимир Бенедиктов – Богач
- St. Alphonsus Rodriguez poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- Portrait From The Infantry
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
