Will James
Thursday, September 15, 2011
THE WAVES AT MIDNIGHT
I sleep with books of poetry in my bed.
There's an ocean at my door.
I hear the hum of voices in my head.
The waves at midnight are dark and blue.
I can't remember anything anymore.
I've swum out so far, I've lost sight of the shore.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment