It Would Rather Poem by James McLain
It Would Rather
Clean the house of plays,
of clingy vines,
all scents amaze it's nose.
It searches high, so very
low inside each seat,
for peanuts missed,
by it, her every other.
Lace floats, to ear so spatial,
sounds of off beat wave,
leaves that blow, across
each mothers other, with a sister
even daughters, wipe it's teary face.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
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5/4/2024 2:49:59 PM # 1.0.0.1119
