Bad poetry

Bad poetry early in the morning,
a pouring out, light and dark,
none of it with the fullness of the original,
words, tinkered with and mangled,
fumbling for phrases honest enough
to paint the morning’s picture,
to capture the unlikely light
of love.

About this poem

A love poem. Even if words are sometimes not enough.

The picture was taken at the quarry across from my house.

Tom