Often, poems lie
Often, poems lie.
We learn the names of things
through our hands
and even the dead
learn to speak.
Often, truths dangle.
Raindrops
on a clothesline,
water for a sparrow’s thirst.
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Comments
absolutely gorgeous. thank you!
Posted by: Jenn | May 22, 2007 1:30 PM
OOOOH... I just love this.
Posted by: colleen | May 22, 2007 9:40 AM