Wooden Feet
i’m thinking
of my wooden feet!
and of
how many lands
it is from here to you!
Wooden Feet
i’m thinking
of my wooden feet!
and of
how many lands
it is from here to you!
Plourde commented on Wooden Feet
08-03-2010
08/03/2010
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
Title | Comments | Submitted |
---|---|---|
Title | Comments | Submitted |
A Star | 1 | 06/11/2011 |
The Sunset | 0 | 06/02/2011 |
My Little Lovely Sun | 0 | 12/26/2010 |
Butterflies | 0 | 09/21/2010 |
runty traps | 0 | 07/23/2010 |
Wooden Feet | 1 | 07/11/2010 |
spring-cleani ng |
0 | 10/14/2009 |
Happening | 2 | 09/22/2009 |
The moment | 3 | 09/20/2009 |
The man | 4 | 09/20/2009 |
Waiting | 4 | 09/15/2009 |
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