Posted by: KJSmyling | April 5, 2009

Iamb What I am…

it is what it is, iamb what i am
a pigeon, fat, grey, eats bread off the lawn
unseen, a thrush marks his territory
a distant mower completes springs first trim
the evening chorus sings its goodnights
overhead a jet heads for distant climes
sirens race to unknown emergencies
i am what i am, and i am iamb

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Responses

  1. Interesting one!


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