To A Sod Loved In Italy Poem by James McLain
To A Sod Loved In Italy
I roll over on to the gondola, the
shine from the wood makes me rise.
It is no suprise,
as she turns, I yawn my suprise.
The profile is sure, smouldering to they
on the bridge all looking down..I bring my
self closer to her and move the still water..
for a swans momenta stuck in time.
what a dumb luck of sod am I.....
The sun shining down on her crown.
Friday, January 8, 2010
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4/26/2024 5:27:40 AM # 1.0.0.1119
