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Imagery ((I hold no pretenses; I defer to all the senses.))
April 14, 2009
I am a dry well
in a flowing river
of ideas.
I am a young fish
in an ancient pond
of disease.
I am an old ring
in a large box
of old bills.
I am the abandoned nest
from spring long past
on a window sill.
I am the assigned book
that no one liked
but all reviewed;
I am the dark
in a world of artificial light.
And yet, I am the truth.
© David P., Mead, WA
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