The Nets Are Down Poem by Kurt Philip Behm
The Nets Are Down
Without rhyme,
the words fade into the mist
Without rhyme,
the verse so begotten
Without rhyme,
all passages blow with the wind
Without rhyme
—so quickly forgotten
(Villanova University: January,2020)
"Without rhyme, it's like playing tennis without a net."
Robert Frost
Sunday, January 12, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: poetry
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4/27/2024 5:00:05 AM # 1.0.0.1119
