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The Dark Poet (Free verse) by Dovina

Haunted by the road not taken, compassioned for roots of fluttering trees and the restlessness of both, observer of happy peril in a runaway colt, finder of gloom in “easy wind and downy flake,” dramatizer of a hired man’s death, of five hundred dollars for a pair of lost feet. Through poems, if not his life, love is agony, life’s a trial, expectation bows to reality, bitter binds to every sweet. Despair wed to fortitude, endless bearing up —- for gifts like these they call him dark.

Ranger 28-Aug-07/2:34 PM
I always chat. If you know the rules of cricket, so much the better.




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