Early Poetry of Nathan Coppedge

RECKONING
I am growing slowly dim.
Make my heart beat, beg me stay!
For not knowing how or why
I�ve withheld a withered dream.

Beg and I, complying to your pulse
become somewhat engaged, yet still remain
a little fretted by the tuneless air
that stirs, without acknowledging a cause.

                                                            
                                                     
poetry i.   main
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1