Gossamer Threads

I feel like cutting my finger,
hiding upside down
clinking a canteen
shelling peas along the floor.

From the focal point above
anything could be.
Light dripping upon
forlorn gossamer spreads
like a balloon.


Merely the vantage point
of a perspective
quietly threading.

Paul Cameron Brown The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets. Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.