I'v seen the river glowing
that would quench all thirst-
and clouds pushed by an invisible brush;
I've seen the red sun of dawn
about to burst
and planes like so many toys among the clouds,
and I've heard the foghorn of the Atlantic
and the wind moaning at my window
Published by Conservative Review, Volume 8, Number 6, November/December 1997
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment