Miscommunication
Rising from the desert sand,
I see the fingers of a hand.
They seem to me to ask
for a water glass,
but, of course that is absurd -
I've misunderstood their word -
there is no water here,
that much, to me, is clear.
They simply wave at me, a passerby.
So, I wave at them goodbye,
and swiftly pass them by.
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.