poetry texts, poem archive at plagiarist.com

There was a road that leads him to go to find 
a certain time where he sits. 

Smokes quietly in the evening by the four legged 
table wagging its (well why not) tail, friendly 
chap. 

Hears footsteps, looks to find his own feet gone. 

The road absorbs everything with rumors of sleep. 

And then he looked for himself and even he was gone. 

Looked for the road and even that . . . 

Added: 20 Feb 2002 | Last Read: 22 May 2018 1:52 AM | Viewed: 6423 times

A PoetryNotes™ Analysis of Hands by Russell Edson, is Available!

A PoetryNotes™ eBook is available for this poem for delivery within 24 hours, and usually available within minutes during normal business hours.

ON SALE - only $29.95 19.95!

For more information...