Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Poetry Wednesday


he delivers
the kindness of (never being) spoken to
of being told nothing at all.
this fondness
is the (same as a sheep for its) wool
which is shorn off
before the beast decides
whether he is warm
or cold.

Annnnnnnnnnnnnd something not-mine that I love:

Fire and Ice
by Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

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