Moons Drift On The Mississippi... Poem by Kyle Shield Laster
Moons Drift On The Mississippi...
There's touch to water of dark mouths:
The lips of dashing Deer.
Tucked in safe is all the South,
But out I am: no fear.
Ripples dance, collecting-
Everything that they can stash,
But no rasping from the River-
Coughing up their little trash.
Moons drift on the Mississippi.
Fire-flies take flight.
Beauty bathes in cotton fields
For She is brave tonight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 1:53:10 PM # 1.0.0.1119
perfect....10/10 :) A wonderful sense of freedom from fear and daring to just be where you want to be, yes?