All We Sight, All That's White! Poem by james watkin
All We Sight, All That's White!
These views, a pleasure walk's
No more so thrill!
Snow. Snow! Upwards farthest
Hedgerow. Its trill!
So deeply, thoroughly
Sealed up, suppressed
That we are fools, indeed!
The late possessed
Of Summer, its spirit
Of delusion.
Soared, bright-eyed in, spurned air's
Numbing demon.
That blithe! Could not accept
To bring one down
Which truth, lands, too, exchange
Smiles for a frown.
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8/5/2025 11:51:26 PM # 1.0.0
