Get Your Premium Membership

If Only the Falkland Sound Could Whisper

rain fingers stroke the Daphne’s neurosis motionless. a laurel tree there. rank-raw and austere, saucey and languid fleckless like statue on a red room trip. there’s this meticulous magic inventor miming the locust in the elevator genius and missionary his chariot of polygon hares.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Reflection on the Important Things