How does a poem begin?
As a tumbleweed stuck between gravestones. As a confession written in the margin of a library book. As the stifled belch of a polite ghost. As a duck-shaped rock in the middle of a pond. As a serendipitous typo. As the faint smell of jasmine inside an old boot. As a beer can flattered to the shape of a heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment