CapitulationA Poem by J.P. Bristow
To rake the dying fire Leaves Me cold and empty. Fields of umber cling Silently Fighting Northern gales A few rebel Thumbing the wind. I wonder That We think them extraordinary As they skirt the fates But in the end Despite all protestations We are all Nothing More Than mulch. © 2011 J.P. BristowAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on November 21, 2011 Last Updated on November 21, 2011 Author
J.P. BristowCanadaAboutAccording to me..... Yes, its true....I am one of those people that laughs out loud during a movie. I am also guilty of chorus singing...you know those awful people that hum to the.. more..Writing
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