Wednesday, February 3, 2010


he didn't know how to begin his own
so he hitched a ride to see
where the army would take him

1 comment:

farmlady said...

I think I'm going to try to start writing these, what do you call them?, not really poems. Chirps?, whistles?, moans? Wherever they are called, they condense life even more than poetry does.
You title sets the stage and the words speak for themselves.
I never know quite what it is that you do with words to make them so clear but it's extraordinary.