This Running, Slant-Wise, With Head Poem by james watkin

This Running, Slant-Wise, With Head



This running, slant-wise, with head
Shrunk timid, defeats not
Rain and its soaking purpose;
All of me to besot.

Lastly, wind-lifted, each branch
Threw tons of drops on me.
The day's second wheedling twas.
Won over - nakedly!

Wednesday, April 17, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: beach,rain
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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