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.