Poem by: Giuma Bukleb If that part of the river Thames, below “Kingston Bridge”, where the trees are willingly anchored, on both banks, Had eyes It might have glanced, on that hour of  the evening, the alertness of my anxiety, It might have noticed, at the same moment, how the desire of the poem, setting its traps in my blood for the seagulls’ flutter, And pigeons’ revelation! If that part of the river Thames, where “Kingston Town” is floating like a paper boat, had eyes It might have sighted, with astonishment, how my body beats with the fever of the […]