It’s World Poetry Day today! Happy Poetry Day! Just wanted to share a little fun that I wrote about a month ago. Comments?
The Author is a Thief
The expectation is for me to convey,
With each turning of the phrase…
Days may come and go,
A green, orange, grey zoetrope,
Passing with each beat, breath or letter,
A river of silk-soft sand,
Countless, until the last few grains are left.
A few left in the palm,
Seeds precious to a starving man,
Planted in wasteful soil,
They yield withered fruit. Continue reading “The Author is a Thief”