Jun 2013
What have the dead poets left
for me to say about moonlight
I shall tell how it spills
like milk
over the stilled land
my thirsty eyes lap it up
softly
my soul purrs
Tricia Lambert
2013
for me to say about moonlight
I shall tell how it spills
like milk
over the stilled land
my thirsty eyes lap it up
softly
my soul purrs
Tricia Lambert
2013
