it sounds
like a wave
the roof
is serving as a beach
of sorts
tin sheeting
as the sand
the wind
makes the tide rise
softly moaning
makes the tide
ebb away
makes a sigh
of flotsam on the move
and the clouds
are a drifting sea
no end to them
and I think …
no end to them
and I feel …
the ocean
that is above me
is going to rain
is going to rain
forever
© Frank Prem, 2017
December 2017 Poem #06: spring creek small walk: the wall
hmm.. nice 🙂
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Thank you Hassan. Glad you enjoyed.
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my pleasure 🙂
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