Читать книгу Sing, Lost Soul - Karl Coppock - Страница 6

I read a poem today that halfway in

called me to say, almost out loud,

Now that’s a poem!

It was only after half my mind was jogged

and memory stirred that not a week ago

I’d read this poem and shrugged.

Some poems are lovers for all seasons,

some for just a few,

and some, apparently, are one-night stands.