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Kurt Philip Behm
Poems
Jan 2020
The Nets Are Down
Without rhyme,
the words fade into the mist
Without rhyme,
the verse so begotten
Without rhyme,
all passages blow with the wind
Without rhyme
—so quickly forgotten
(Villanova University: January, 2020)
“Without rhyme, it’s like playing tennis without a net.”
Robert Frost
Written by
Kurt Philip Behm
kurtphilipbehm.com
(kurtphilipbehm.com)
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