This is your poem, briefly, passing
quiet as a headlight from the unseen street
through your nighted window; transient to
places unseeable to you or me,
but present with you, presently.
This poem is a passing that belongs to you,
as I do, briefly.
License
Reading Homer to the Ducks Copyright © 2018 by Rick Steele & Screeching Cockatiel Self-Publishers is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License, except where otherwise noted.