Tuesday, April 11, 2006


In the trunk, the stowaway.
In the dark, the smuggled diamonds.
In the wine, bitterness.
In the wool, the manger.
In the rain, the small cold fingers.
In the mailbox, weeping.
In the iron, rust.
In the horse, the donkey.
In the cane, brown sugar.
In the mother, sons.


Bob Hoeppner said...


Would a donkey be in a horse, or a mule?

Shut up, Bob.

Carl said...

I guess that depends on the donkey, Bob...

michi said...

i coudn't resist the word verification so i have to say something. *LOL* it's lrkifxi btw. i am working on a poem that consists only of those word verification combinations, you see. it'll be a huge success. *LOL*

michi, who's dwelling on some very different planet, and who is certain that madness dwells in her brain. and who likes your dwellings list.

btw how is your ipod?

SarahJane said...

the donkey, because the mule was nowhere to be found.

michi -
my ipod needs juice!

Pat Paulk said...

Like this very much!!

SarahJane said...

thank you kindly!

rae said...


I really like this latest offering.


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