This Old Spicket Poem by Eric Cockrell

This Old Spicket



this old spicket
always drips...

having stood the test
of time and weather,
heat and cold....

surrounded by weeds,
occasionally covered
by a lone spider's web...

rusted and tarnished.....
just waiting....
for someone to

turn the knob!

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success