The Roof

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: March 03, 2019

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Submitted: March 03, 2019

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The Roof

The fish know no space,

When I am to myself. 

They swish and they ramble,

I don't wonder what about.

Now I must leave.

I will leave to the roof. 

The roof, yes most common. 

It may be aloof. 

Though that is where I will be. 

If times are rough and you need me,

check the roof and there you'll see,

My birdy friends surrounding me.

It's where I will go.

It's where I will stay,

Until distant feelings,

Leave me astray. 

- From the journal of Peter Beck


© Copyright 2020 P. K. Beck. All rights reserved.

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