Lesle Lewis

The Menders And The Breakers - Poem by Lesle Lewis

The rain does not cool and is a sticky one to the present and the place.
Is it a weakness, yours for narcotics?
The trees levitate and become mountains.
You stand in the water inside a melancholy boulder.
Now you're a flying sandwich.

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Read poems about / on: rain, water, tree

Poem Submitted: Monday, January 20, 2003

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