What Goes Around
Clapton’s first three chords,
his last three chords,
my words have done the same
Verses once muddled,
distant and skewed,
now thunder down like rain
The syllables left
are short and pointed,
their edges razor sharp
To cut the remaining
clinging vines
—setting fire to the dark
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)
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.
Please
Login
to post a comment