Through the verticular rectangle
Window before me across the room,
I spot but a sturdy oak, scarred
from marring forces and sturdy
By its many-ringed core.
Never stood there a more grand
Form of life, but when I, curious yet
Left my enclosure to explore,
I found that the glorious tree was
Simply a verticular rectangle
Crafted to fit my spectacle
Of the window I sat behind.
YOU ARE READING
Not From Chicago.
PoetryThis is a collection of my best poetry in my opinion! I hope you enjoy, whoever may paint their eyes over the letters and words I've arranged! PS-This book includes poems from "A World In Words" by yours truly. Go check out the other book, if you li...
