The Drain
Water drop
Journies through lands,
Falling through the drain--
Winding down
Like liquid lies,
Disintergrating
Into the ground
To be never seen
Again.
The Drain
Water drop
Journies through lands,
Falling through the drain--
Winding down
Like liquid lies,
Disintergrating
Into the ground
To be never seen
Again.
07-13-2010
07/14/2010
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
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