Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Making Do

What if a much
of a whether it's
wind laid down
its weapon and

wept?  A crow,
sensing it's not
time yet, waits.
A staircase the

weather is climbing
creaks with age.
"Mud", reluctantly
riming with "flood",

makes do with
the water it has.

No comments:

Post a Comment