historicalpoem (Remove filter)
Boots 1
The boots are quite small to fit small feet
They are pulled on before sunrise
Sleep being forsaken, for there is work to do
And being late is out of the question
The boots walked along the well-worn track
To the place of noise and danger
For another day of clearing cotton fluff
Dodging the scary machinery that could crush her in a second
The dirt and smell sometimes making ...
Saturday 13th June 2020 6:04 pm
Recent Comments
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The roads taken
50 minutes ago
Red Brick Keshner on still, the Earth breathes
58 minutes ago
Marnanel Thurman on The roads taken
1 hour ago
Red Brick Keshner on where shadows do not drown
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
2 hours ago
Larisa Rzhepishevska on The Policemen Arrest The Men.
2 hours ago
Ray Miller on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
2 hours ago
Ray Miller on The roads taken
3 hours ago
Ray Miller on The Bright Blue Sky
3 hours ago
Auracle on Too late too late
3 hours ago