Because You Asked About The Line Between Prose And Poetry
by Howard Nemerov
Sparrows were feeding in a freezing drizzle
That while you watched turned into pieces of snow
Riding a gradient invisible
From silver aslant to random, white, and slow.There came a moment that you couldn’t tell.
And then they clearly flew instead of fell.
Archive for 17 martie 2012
Poezie de sâmbătă
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