Clare's Triolet The Second Poem by shelly keats

Clare's Triolet The Second



The parasol was wet with rain.
She spun it quickly. Drops popped up.
Goddess Clare laughed; she laughed again.
The parasol was wet with rain.
Clare cheered to see men: tea in cup
drenched to hot soup, set to hiccup.
The parasol was wet with rain.
She spun it quickly. Drops popped up.

Thursday, June 19, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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