What a smile! ideas repel down strings
tied to what?
Wedged in the elm branches you will
find a wedge
Sharp enough to split a block of oak
likely sharp
O surely sharper than a few
sheltered flowers O
How can these little shits bloom in
winter tell me how
Long before that blackness under the
trees the long
Shadows now because it’s too late
for shadows
To be short like me they are tall
like you wish to be
And I was asking how long can they
stay so and
When will you say so many flowers
know only when
They dry which rhymes with die I
mean well they
Sing such eternal tootsies with tiny
voices they sing
Rivers back home again and of course
the icy rivers
Don’t hear my troubled glug not till spring they don’t
No comments:
Post a Comment