EMPTY GARDEN – Poetry, by Yesim Agaoglu

EMPTY GARDEN

Your pillow howls, I howl. You’re gone, so is your black hair, were you here I’d rest my head on your shoulder. I know your heart beating fast, your pasted-on wings racing with birds, once again you’ve burnt down my lushest forest, left me bereft of you, your absence a knife cuttıng velvet, bloodless. Your pillow weeps, I weep, the snow even has melted but you’re not back, no blood much pain your being gone, left behind you one denuded garden.

(Yesim Agaoglu)

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Metamorphosis-Yesim-Agaoglu/dp/B00LW8E4Q0

http://www.amazon.com/s?ie=UTF8&page=1&rh=n%3A283155%2Cp_27%3AYesim%20Agaoglu