I fill the kettle
With water,
Place it
On its chair
And wait for it
To seethe
In Rage.
Wisps of Smoke
Escape
Through its tiny window
And dance gracefully
Like waves
Stroking the sandy shore.
YOU ARE READING
Passenger
PoetryIt is not about the destination. It is about the journey. #26 in poetry (Apr 8th 2016) Photo belongs to its rightful owner.
Kettle
I fill the kettle
With water,
Place it
On its chair
And wait for it
To seethe
In Rage.
Wisps of Smoke
Escape
Through its tiny window
And dance gracefully
Like waves
Stroking the sandy shore.
