by Ethel Mortenson Davis
“You must come.”
“No, not yet.”
“You have no choice.”
“But I must right something
in my life.
Wait till morning.”
“You have no more mornings
in your quiver.”
“Oh.”
“Now, let go
of the rim
of the Great Canyon.”
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
“You must come.”
“No, not yet.”
“You have no choice.”
“But I must right something
in my life.
Wait till morning.”
“You have no more mornings
in your quiver.”
“Oh.”
“Now, let go
of the rim
of the Great Canyon.”
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry