Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Table D.

So, he's on the table,

thinking... I think.

Surveying several square feet

he looks at me pass the window

 

the window generally stops my feet

he is a 'he'... I think

it's hard to see from the window

harder when he's under his table.

 

"come to my side of the window"

he definitely can't here me... I think

We'd put on the kettle, put up our feet

thinking and talking between a coffee table

Request permission to use this poem
s
Written by
seb-berkovich
Irish
Published
Jul 13, 2010
Lines·Words
12·74
Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell seb-berkovich how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write