YOUNG POETS YOUNG POETS joomag[2466]222 | Page 67

LAST DAY It was a Sunday morning That day, our last day We walked on the each When your hair was wavy… You and me How wonderful day had we lived Knowing that those days wouldn’t lost A nice friendship during a few weeks holiday At nights, under the trees In the arms of loneliness we would chat Years have passed since splitting up, I could do anything to see you and hear your voice Your jetblack eyes, Your wavy hair unforgettable Never think you have forgetten You are not forgetten… Erkay Enes KARAKUŞ,TÜRKİYE