Across the bridge
The women come -
And go into the town,
To talk of Mrs. Agnes Brown.
Defer the potential hilarity of prayer -
Open a gate or two
Cross the fields and find that place
Where profanity is valid -
Confront the giddy vernacular of that blackest hole,
The unlikely calculus of our being or being not
And those pages of impossible sums:
Cease to wonder why the old folk,
Beat their ancient drums.
-
Author:
Danny Quinn (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 28th, 2026 09:24
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 2
Offline)
Comments1
I love the composition of this piece its vernacular and course it takes it runs like flowing water down a hill. Nicely composed it speaks to me.
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