Creating A Comment Poem by James McLain
Creating A Comment
Wading through foam to the sea
I pass between rocks that aren't seen.
An easier course with out thought
to discourse,
waves that are warm most can feel.
Who stood up, I sold what was said?
Saying what was said that none said.
Being near what was said-I stood
like the breeze- bushes without leaves
feel the cold.
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: green
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4/25/2024 2:04:34 AM # 1.0.0.1119
