Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2010
Cold cylinder cradled back and forth,
Bubbles occasionally rise for release.
Sipping silently questioning my feet
And how they feel on hard concrete.
What I found was what I thought
I knew... I knew nothing of the sort.
Then and now I'd move my mouth;
Motions all at once violent and hollow.
2010
Written by
Allan E Bartlett
Please log in to view and add comments on poems