She picked pomegranates warm from the sun.
The stains on her gown, like blood on the bed sheets, have dried.
She walked on the glass we had broken.
Blood-let and pale she picks petals from flowers’ decay.
In the desert a serpent moon dies
Her hands are still frozen, the shadows aches in my chest.
Sanaa hosts a poetry form called Landay at toads. Couplets with 9 and 13 syllables
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December 12, 2019
Björn Rudbergs writings 
This reflects the sad imprisoned life many Afghani women live in arranged marriages.
Fantastic, Bjorn. I especially love the pomegranates. So vivid an image.
You really made this form justice. 🙂
The image is vivid enough to sadden me to the fact that women are still unfree in so many parts of the world.
These are really exquisite and detailed. You do the form justice.
Profound and so moving.
Such a powerful poem so many strong images carries it through
I think this portrait is fantastic.. so much inferred in the spaces between the lines.
Wow, Björn, the contrasts and imagery within each Landay are incredible!
What beautiful trio of couplets that hint of an underlying sadness in their relationship.
My goodness this is poignant! ❤️ I love the contrasts and imagery in each Landay especially; “She walked on the glass we had broken.
Blood-let and pale she picks petals from flowers’ decay.” Thank you so much for writing to my final prompt 🙂
Haunting. Beautifully done ~~~~
Oh, there is such eloquent beauty in your writing as it writes through pain.
The last couplet is particularly stunning, losing that moon and being left frozen, cycles of unfettered truths
Thanks for dropping by to read mine
Much✏love
my chest is tight. effectively sad.
Very sad, very beautiful.
The language in this is lovely!