Poetry is ... that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does. --Allen Ginsberg

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

In a Pond

Not flower growing
Wet sea plants growing
Water everywhere
West, south, east, and north
Ducks floating, fish swimming
Ducks pecking to eat fish

Baby duck following mother and fathers
Lily pads floating around along in the blue pond
No matter where it does not matter
And less is the ocean
We can go in the water
April 3, 2011
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1 comment:

  1. troyApril 5, 2011 at 2:28 PM

    I like your poetry, Joshua. I like the end of this poem the most so far.

    ReplyDelete

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