Sherman L. Fowler
Thinking - Poem by Sherman L. Fowler
The fog rolls
over under and through,
hiding Black rocks.
It turns and tumbles
unaware of time,
dispersing itself into the elements.
Carved images burst forth
only the mind can hear.
Comments about Thinking by Sherman L. Fowler
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You