Larry

I stand by what I said, where praise be, words are better off dead, my eyes roll like thunder, wine dark like the sea, it makes me shudder, from a blue dread, stripped down like a tree, I’ve nothing more to give, here and there a cluster, poplars blow in the breeze, it doesn't pass muster, my voice has nothing left, too late for the season, geese fly overhead, her face is the wonder, happy laughing clean, that I tore asunder, it's quiet by this shed, my place of need, I’ll take here some rest, left open for me.