Treasure Island

Is It Poetry

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

how to where, i go


I feel heat, is it, the light?
Search, a face in long halls.
Passages, many are dark.
Others here, i cannot see.
I feel the sun, through roof.
Light allusive, once infused.

Submitted: Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Edited: Wednesday, May 20, 2009

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