Norman Lloyd West

(San Francisco, California)


Poem by Norman Lloyd West

Ah, death,
You hateful color,
Why do you stare,
Back at me?

Would I might go,
Into the world,
Out into the wide
World green.

Would I might pluck,
a single leaf,
Weep over every blade
of grass.

Oh death,
You hateful color,
Why have you bound me,
So fast?

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Read poems about / on: death, green, world

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003