by Peter Erich
When I hear a hymn
of increasing algae,
I spin a tin cup
with a light touch.
When I hear a hymn
of cooking lentils,
I am apparently
lazier than kelp.
When I hear a hymn
of self contained friendship,
I boomer-rang all day.
Sunlight does not mean grace.
0
favs |
819 views
0 comments |
50 words
All rights reserved. |
&&&&&&***POEM
This story has no tags.