Lawrence S. Pertillar (February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)
Like the Sun comes to lick the frost,
Where the chilled air had laid at dawn...
So much of what has been coated
And disguised under quick and cooled mists,
Lifts when daylight heats.
And we again surrender to our whims,
To satisfy selfish needs!
As long as we can afford to maintain them.
Comments about this poem (Selfish Needs by Lawrence S. Pertillar )
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