poetry texts, poem archive at plagiarist.com

Something 
cold is in the air, 
an aura of ice 
and phlegm. 
All day I've built 
a lifetime and now 
the sun sinks to 
undo it. 
The horizon bleeds 
and sucks its thumb. 
The little red thumb 
goes out of sight. 
And I wonder about 
this lifetime with myself, 
this dream I'm living. 
I could eat the sky 
like an apple 
but I'd rather 
ask the first star: 
why am I here? 
why do I live in this house? 
who's responsible? 
eh? 


Submitted by RW

Added: 24 Feb 2003 | Last Read: 6 Jul 2008 1:16 PM | Viewed: 5476 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...