Reading Time: < 1 minute

Poem

I was born in the morning of the world,
So I know how morning looks
morning in the valley wanting,
morning on a mountain wanting.
Morning looks like people look,
like a cornfield wanting corn,
like a sea wanting ships.
Tell me about any strong, beautiful wanting,
And there is your morning, my morning,
everybody’s morning.

Previous Poem
Throw Roses
Next Poem
To A Dead Man