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Apr 10, 2008
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killtime sonnet #17
The slope above the river has a path
Not lately marked by any human feet
A passing lane held empty for the fleet
Or those who would avoid mosquito wrath
The broader path through shaded leafy green
Invites the victims to mosquito beaks
And other things to make you itch for weeks
The fetid mud records where you have been.
The water there is nothing you would drink
To linger there is silly, don't you think?
The grimly merry hikers breast the thorns
Uncaring of the risk of sudden flood
To bring to needy insects human blood.
They're celebrating nature. Blow some horns!
Comments
purplemoondoll
18 years ago
This has some good flow and
Skumpfsklub
18 years ago
You betcha! Forced rhymes are commonplace in a killtime sonnet
Barbara Writes
18 years ago
Enjoyed