poetry texts, poem archive at plagiarist.com

   
At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have settled 
after a night of rain. 
I dip my cupped hands. I drink 
a long time. It tastes 
like stone, leaves, fire. It falls cold 
into my body, waking the bones. I hear them 
deep inside me, whispering 
oh what is that beautiful thing 
that just happened?

Added: 2 Mar 2002 | Last Read: 4 Jul 2008 9:54 AM | Viewed: 6827 times

PoetryNotes™ Analysis

A custom PoetryNotes™ eBook may be ordered for this poem. Get help with your homework - delivered in 5-6 days.

For more information...