by Rae06 Nov 2017
as the childrenwho play in the puddlesof life's anxiety.Can't you hear usin a commotionof a placewe did not create.The edges of an evening ceilingtranscendthe quiverof intent.
Follow PoetryZoo on Twitter, Facebook, Google+, Pinterest
All poems © their respective authors. Site © PoetryZoo.com. Design and development by Primate.