Smoke! Smoke!
The world looks so smoky or is it just me?
Or is it the fog or the smog?
What does it matter, I can't see.
And the ceiling fan makes a whirling noise
And the little boy, living down the lane, yells out to his friend
The man next door plays news on the radio;Scotland yard reports
And a cat, a cat mews somewhere, somewhere near me.
1 comment:
Now this is what I call a poem....reminds me of Eliot's Preludes....a fine piece that expresses the futility and meaninglessness of our lives.....wonderful expression...:)
Arnav
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