A Bed
All tucked in
Hay as a top sheet
Inches of white
Snow as a comforter
Bulbs, roots, and rhizomes
Nap and dream until
Spring wakens them
A Bed
All tucked in
Hay as a top sheet
Inches of white
Snow as a comforter
Bulbs, roots, and rhizomes
Nap and dream until
Spring wakens them
03-16-2010
01-19-2010
Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.
Unknown Source
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.