Ditch the ads, upload images and much more - upgrade today from 5.95/month!
Read • Contests • Groups • Learn • Forums • Store • Help
 

cloud poem

A moment’s contradiction,
that the trees look to
with old man consideration.

The clouds that hang low,
have burnt away their white mantles.
Instead the linger before the sun,
burlesque as Paris.

Smoky orange coupled with
an undecided pink.
They shock the earth,
a woman’s fist.

And when I see their bloomers,
showy and vain
I laugh.

constructive criticism please

    : , Your review:

    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
    • Line numbers  • Invite them to read
    : no Cost: 0 free left 0 points, You have (?)