Poetry Blogs (mowing)
The Imperfect Gardener
Someone once said, long ago or last week,
that it's futile on a finite and populous planet
to seek a truth, or a finely polished apple,
in the still-life-on-canvas we daily behold,
and by such uncouth behaviour
we are mostly confounded, and fail to grapple.
So we're prisoners here, in uncounted millions,
unable to leap high or fast enough to...
Sunday 5th November 2017 1:25 am