Dirt Poem by MARINA GIPPS

Dirt

Rating: 5.0


A stranger once told me,
Walls are made of dirt,
We are already dead.

With dirt,
We are blown in the wind
Somehow

Buried deep
Or pulverized
By flame

Now, go find
That footprint
You left, he said,

That one before
You fell in love
And stay there.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
MARINA GIPPS

MARINA GIPPS

Chicago, Illinois
Close
Error Success