I wonder if I'm sick, or seeing things.
They chatter loudly, all of them unaware
Of the quiet miracle unfolding here.
Wild-eyed, I watch this beaming apparition:
Your blond head bent over the desk
Your shoulders tensed in concentration,
And your beautiful hands,
writing.
Showing posts with label iambic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label iambic. Show all posts
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)