cut off my tongue, then,
so I can’t say what I know,
and turn me into a nightingale
there are other ways to sing—
feel the sun, how it always tells the truth
January 25, 2016 by Rosemerry
cut off my tongue, then,
so I can’t say what I know,
and turn me into a nightingale
there are other ways to sing—
feel the sun, how it always tells the truth
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged nightingale, philomela, poem, poetry, truth | 1 Comment
Tanka lots. Nice. I might cut off that comma after “tongue” – eliminates the confusion that might be construed as a sequence instead of just plain talk.