Digital Clock
The digits of the clock
Spell out her date of birth:
One of the noblest souls
On this great wounded earth.
Before her numerals
I bow a reverent head
And wish that I could kiss
Each vestige of her tread.
Poetry by Uncle Meridian
Read 258 times
Written on 2021-10-18 at 02:32
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
MetaPoetics |
