by John McKernan
Slither
Right in
Covering the floor
With its metaphor of broken glass
Over oak across a black rug
Imitating the sounds
Of certain months and years
Of German and Russian history
Adding a strange new conclusion
To the Cinderella epic
I've just read to my daughter
Who asks What did that?
And I answer honestly I don't know
Just a fierce wind Probably nothing Nothing at all
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment