- Non-Erotic Poetry
- November Still Life
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The farmer was not well groomed.
His beard, however, was the color
Of morning sunlight sifting through it.
Coffee steam mugged up his nose
Arabica. He leaned on summer's
Manure crusted stanchions
With nothing better to do
Than wave away spider mites
From placenta and Old Testament
Leather splayed to Genesis
Praise for his heifer calving,
But the beast was there alone.
- COMMENTS
buttersover 14 years agohttp://forum.literotica.com/showpost.php?p=32396612&postcount=2873
your poem has been reviewed today over on the Poetry Forum of Lit.
A tardis of a poem. Enjoyed it immensely and all it made me think about.
