The Nets Are Down
Without rhyme,
the words fade into the mist
Without rhyme,
the verse so begotten
Without rhyme,
all passages blow with the wind
Without rhyme
—so quickly forgotten
(Villanova University: January, 2020)
“Without rhyme, it’s like playing tennis without a net.”
Robert Frost
Copyright © Kurt Philip Behm | Year Posted 2020
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