On The Edge Of A Poem Poem by Bill Grace
On The Edge Of A Poem
I always seem to live on the edge of a poem
It doesn't seem to matter where I roam
Or time of day or money or its lack
Frost, Dickinson, Shakespeare, Donne -
Their words echo in my mind, I find them fun.
Unlike them I have no great words to give
Especially with a mind that's more and more a sieve
Yet while I breathe I always seem to live
On the edge of a poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 1:28:53 AM # 1.0.0.1119
