Paul Rousseau · Jun 20, 2012
Pupils of the Sun

Trying not to look into the pupils of the sun
A smoke screen and prude
Pursuing soft unspoken ones
Halfway to here is there
Do I spin or do the clouds?
Perception prescribes the anecdote
Do I laugh or does the clown?

 
To comment on this poem, please log in or create a free account
Log in or register to comment