Etched Underneeth Poem by James McLain

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James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By

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Etched Underneeth

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What and why of always never me?
Do you even try too telephone?
Was it ruined leaving marks?
I scratched it on the walls of your dim cell?
The silent God of nature Oh.
I am this smell so pure.
Cotton white the yellow rising sun.
It comes upon a misty clearing.
Etched living underneeth,
a leaf of dying lingers more than silent night.

James McLain

Saturday, November 27, 2010

poem poems dying yellow Leaving

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Poems By James McLain

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See All Poems by James McLain

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James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By

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