Wednesday, October 22, 2008
creak clatter squeak
goes the wheels
of my little
red wagon
and the moment slows
under marigolden skies
because of you
and my little wagon
secret is held like
flower in hand
pressed up against soul
hopes so high
drifting into clouds
and dancing
with novas and lost balloons
creak clatter squeak
goes the wheels
of my little red wagon
join my secret march
to HOPE
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2 comments:
i really like this poem! the way you wrote each line corresponds with teh creak clatter squeak. its like i hear it and see it.
so lovely.
xoxo,
La C.
You write so beautifully.
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