Prams

I see babies in prams pass me by.

The seasons merge into 1

And I sigh for what is going fast,

And may already be gone.

The sound of carefree children touches me.

I must grope for hope

When women give birth on warming earth

To children who will not see

The season’s cycle as it should be.

	K Morris Poet on Table Dancing
	K Morris Poet on Table Dancing
	V.M.Sang on Table Dancing
	K Morris Poet on Table Dancing
	K Morris Poet on Indifference

K Morris – Poet