Treasure Island

Is It Poetry

(1958 - / Bus-Boys And Poets, Washington D.C.)

dew drops


Standing there, hush are you so still.
The fog it wraps around you up and up
Angels, 'looking down,
no one here' can see you.

Walking round in circles, walking.
Foggy clouds like hope, they open up.
and closed each face i see behind you.
Those dew drops hang, like rainy tears.

Submitted: Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Edited: Thursday, July 08, 2010

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