Thursday, April 28, 2011

April Poem Seventeen

A strange kind of proselytizing
Is happening everywhere you look,
You turn around and there someone is
Sincerely recommending a book.

2 comments:

Vishvesh said...

:-)))...btw, noticed this was the only poem with the number written as a word.

Mukta Raut said...

:-))

474, 475, 476, and 477 of 534

 I am feeling disoriented now. And my body aches - from the travel and whatever is going on. But a friend takes me to his gym every night......