POEMS
by C.S. Scotkin
Poems are new love in the night
or muted cries of children’s fright.
Golden eagles soaring light.
Or weakness overcoming might.
A poem is summer heat that wilts
or winter freeze when axis tilts.
And green grass shacks built up on stilts,
or dashing knights with hands on hilts.
A poem’s emotion boiled down
a broken heart worn like a crown
or pathos worthy of a clown.
The glory of a wedding gown.
Our poems which are the stuff of life
Recall our triumphs, moaning strife
with interpretation, rife
soft as down, our sharpest knife.
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