UntitledA Poem by Wilyem Clark
Onions usually don't make me cry,
But today, while slicing a purple bulb, I sobbed like a widower on hearing the news That his children, too, have perished. The potency of these globes of grief Varies from allium to allium. © 2017 Wilyem Clark |
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Added on July 10, 2017 Last Updated on July 10, 2017 AuthorWilyem ClarkWashington, DCAboutI've been writing poems since my teens (now in my 60s) and prose since the 1990s. It's been hard finding decent forums online--the free websites too often suffer sudden deaths. My "published" works ar.. more..Writing
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