I Glean To Touch An Angel's Feather
I have not settled, on…
A song I like.
And, dear that is why - I write!
I glean to touch an angel's feather
But all I do is roll like a bolder…
Strewn-down the mountain-side
Bruised the color of purple heather
By these empty, ‘words', hell for leather.
poem by Mark Heathcote
Added by Poetry Lover
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