Contest - Poem by Francis Santaquilani
On a rain-slick,
A tall, thin girl
In a black tee shirt and jeans
Stands on one leg.
Like the herron she watches
On the riverbank.
Her dark hair pasted to her pale face.
Her slick, bare arms at her side.
Each fingertip drips like a faucet.
The rain falls harder.
Heavy clouds sag closer to the river.
Who'll be the first to dropp the other leg?
Comments about Contest by Francis Santaquilani
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You