Little Frailer
Oy little frailer,
Chaplain of the maple stocks –
Mother wants me home!
I must tell her of my kin,
The incense of rugged mud banks
Clinging tightly to my toes –
How shall I ever leave!
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
