deepundergroundpoetry.com
IN THE STICKS
The sun sets indirectly
On this part of the marsh,
Yet the birds still sing
To me, the earth,
About your wondrous
Little woven ball
Of golden fire.
On this part of the marsh,
Yet the birds still sing
To me, the earth,
About your wondrous
Little woven ball
Of golden fire.
Published 4th Sep 2019
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 4
reading list entries 0
comments 6
reads 484
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
4th Sep 2019 9:39am
4th Sep 2019 8:47pm
4th Sep 2019 4:23pm
4th Sep 2019 8:46pm
4th Sep 2019 11:57pm
5th Sep 2019 1:39am
