In your heavy long coat, you meet the cold morn, collar turned up. Thick gloves are worn. There's frost on the ground and a freeze in the air,
By Will Ruha2 months ago in Poets
We were told, as our high-flying flag unfurled, "The glow from that fire can truly light the world." Robert Frost foretold, in the high, morning hour,
Hello, moon, you balloon way up in the sky, you round rubber ball, and lemony pie, you're a warm bowl of curry, a big wheel of cheese,
Tell me, did you show your face at night and smile the hours away, or, likely as not, avoid the light for blemishes on display?
