The Evangelical and the Skeptic
Soft air, fresh gusts from the south
Twist and turn the leaves silver.
Walter says, "rain." I say, "maybe."
It rains, he feels vindicated.
It does not rain, he says,
"The exception proves the rule."
I say, "maybe."
Poetry by jim
Read 129 times
Written on 2015-06-12 at 16:21
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Lawrence Beck |
Jamsbo Rockda |
John Ashleigh |
countryfog |
Texts |
by jim Latest textsShort WorkThe Saddle Disconnect James Dean Reimagined Fourteen More Lines on Whisky |
Increase font
Decrease