Sarah Capella Smith

There Goes The Truth (7th September 2006)

Who’s driving this thing?
Is it revenge? Wires or veins?

Sphere, electricity, volts, blue.
Typical. Simple.

I didn’t
Have to say a thing,

The sea had all the language enough.
Her weak limbs moved in session.

She created music in her silence
From the light of night’s pearl eye;

The shades were as varied as we are.
People,

Or places, from the past -
They must flood now.

She roared in cold and silver.
Easy now, one at a time.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, October 1, 2006
Poem Edited: Thursday, September 30, 2010

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Robert Frost

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening



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