The Poetry of
Jack Scott

At Odds

I gamble, win or lose.
Is risk worth loss
against the hope of gain?
You weren’t a promise
but your favorite word, a maybe,
hybrid of flat earth and topography.
Mountains wilt to their knees,
not in prayer, but in default
providing more horizon
filled with empty sky.

 

696 ®Copyright 2014 Jack Scott. All rights reserved.
From Poemystic.com