Bury your head my little flamingo, the rain says,
To the tree in the mind with your begging bowl.
Not even the rainmaker knows the shape of the rain.
Why keep trying to paint it?
Poetry - ISSUE #27
Bury your head my little flamingo, the rain says,
To the tree in the mind with your begging bowl.
Not even the rainmaker knows the shape of the rain.
Why keep trying to paint it?