She Waits, To Dust Me Poem by James McLain

James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By

She Waits, To Dust Me



I tremble in tics, my dog and I
sharing dreams.
Her shades are never drawn,
I dance watching, am I allowed?
She is bored easily, I doubt if I
landed on her,
she wouldn't even pay attention.
You don't even kick me.Off of it.

Sunday, May 3, 2009
Topic(s) of this poem: dance,dog,sharing
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James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By
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