Even when the sky is stone
The earth is free to sing;
The best potatoes know the songs
That season every spring.
Even when the wall is dry
The paint is not asleep;
Some foul-mouthed cuckoo keeps it up
With jokes that make us weep.
Even when a frog is free
It may not know the dance;
What good is it to have the right
And leave the choice to chance?
Even when the water's clear
Things aren't what they seem;
To understand the simplest words
There is a need to dream.
All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems
permission to use
provided by the author. |
