Do you believe in shapes?

Go and ask a credulous heart
'Do you believe in shapes? '
'Is a distant bough swaying in a tempest
sound breathless stake breathing the fire of a spell/
Does it exist? '
'Is a remote sunset drawn carefully painted sight
just a ridiculous attempt to humanize the edges of poplars
protecting a necropolis ground? '
'Is it real or just a fancy whimper? '
The truth will hang on a creed
like a badly sewn button on a ragged coat
but the love will close the doubts of faith
even when it walks through the broken ground.

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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