He rants at the moon
and he rants at the sky
at each of the planets
as they spin by.
He remembers the spring
and the autumn too
the hot days of summer
all the winters he knew.
He howls with the wind
and he cries in the rain
recovers in sunlight
and forgets his own pain.
He's dressed as the clown
with his broad painted smile
and the grease paint tears
that roll from his eyes.
and he rants at the sky
at each of the planets
as they spin by.
He remembers the spring
and the autumn too
the hot days of summer
all the winters he knew.
He howls with the wind
and he cries in the rain
recovers in sunlight
and forgets his own pain.
He's dressed as the clown
with his broad painted smile
and the grease paint tears
that roll from his eyes.
Peter Hollard
2 comments:
These green eyes are stunning! Such a perfect photo to go with the poem. I'm enjoying your work here!
Thank you Cheryl, but all honor goes to the poet . . . if you want to you can visit his blog www.yzerfonteinchronicles.blogspot.com/
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