Found Poetry 468

12/19/20

nature's artwork grows on me
a medium of wind, water, rock, and fire
lit by the sun for all to admire
parts moving around as if at play
perhaps gone the very next day
to make memories long we need the brief
and we feel them wiggling away like teeth

This poem was created from Sylvia Plath's collected works. Click here to get a book of Plath's poems.

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