Poem-a-(week)day, #9
What I see when I look
is bait not hook
a life without and with her
And why not be content?
why hearth and home resent?
one eddy to prosper, the other wither
these chords in accord
and rivers to ford
are not so deep as wide and long
And though I see the other bank
Wade here in the dank
mistaking babbling for song
