Everything Down Here Poem by james watkin
Everything Down Here
Drab as gray
Either way
You look at it. Summery.
Or noon-shone.
To so brood
No bleak mood
By, o'ershadowed. Sorrow-free.
Nor to, prone.
Nor have died!
To guage, skied
Its sombre truth. Heaven's sketch!
A bad clone!
Wednesday, September 4, 2024
Topic(s) of this poem: earth
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9/13/2024 4:08:12 PM # 1.0.0.1119
