I am walked on a leash by my dog and am water only to be crossed by a bridge. Dog and bridge. An ear not owned by a face, an egg without a yolk and my mother without a rooster. Not to have been. London has no bees and it is bee time. No hounds in the orchard, no small craft warnings or sailing ships. In how many poems through how many innocent branches has the moon peeked without being round. This song is for New York City who peeled me like an apple, the fat off the lamb, raw and coreless. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INTELLECT by RALPH WALDO EMERSON SONNET: DEATH-WARNINGS by FRANCISCO GOMEZ DE QUEVEDO Y VILLEGAS THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE AT [OR AFTER] CORUNNA by CHARLES WOLFE WHEN JUNE IS COME by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES STRAFFORD; A TRAGEDY by ROBERT BROWNING A DREAM by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT |