Poetry from a Time Forgotten : On a Lake of Weeds

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

On a Lake of Weeds

Vines hang like fingers from the sky. Bobby lies flat as a lily pad on a lake of weeds. He sucks on a hickory stick like a cigarette, and scolds the oak trees and the lilac bushes and beheads the dandelions. Sometimes he cries cause no one plays with him. The squirrels stay hidden till he goes home.... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Ariala at 6:17 AM | add or view comments (10) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry
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