shortstoryfan
02-15-2009, 06:03 PM
This time I’m
a lonely isle.
Grasses do not spring upon me.
No verdant land--
barren thing,
with rocks and crags.
Edges will not
be softened by erosion
of wind or water.
The waves hardly touch.
The air stilled.
a lonely isle.
Grasses do not spring upon me.
No verdant land--
barren thing,
with rocks and crags.
Edges will not
be softened by erosion
of wind or water.
The waves hardly touch.
The air stilled.