Piccolos Poem by Donal Mahoney
Piccolos
Walking in the forest
as morning comes
I hear piccolos
of wrens and robins
offer hymns to God
some say isn’t there
and isn't anywhere.
The piccolos, some say,
are simply fallout
from the Big Bang.
I tell the wrens and robins
but they play on.
Sunday, May 17, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: god
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4/26/2024 7:17:43 PM # 1.0.0.1119
