Army of Another
Oh Little Wisdom,
something will find you, some nose, cold,
some sound, bark, some cough, some hush now,
some pain gone forth to meet the place
yours was, some vine cut from the gut,
some Juned-up sun, some tread, some mite.
Nance Van Winckel
jubilat Number 19
Copyright © 2011 by Nance Van Winckel
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by Poetry Daily with permission