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A Thing Itís Not

 

He does deserve

What money bought:

A rural fling

Thatíll grow more rocks

Than native crops.

No lack of nerve,

Heíll post his plot

To say, "Itís mine,"

And hang a sign

That calls it a farm,

Because whatís the harm

In calling a thing

A thing itís not?

 

Robert Crawford

 

 

© 1999; originally printed in
The Larcom Review.   Reprinted
by permission of the author.
 

Background by
Ariel's Studio


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