Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2012
Please, when you come, bring me news of the world –
not foreign wars or epic storms or the Queen's upcoming
Jubilee, but things that only you can tell – like this morning
smelled like mulch and mud; the slate was wet, and you thought of me.
Marsha Singh
Written by
Marsha Singh
Please log in to view and add comments on poems