Author Jeanne Larsen Through the front gate,my morning thoughtstake off; from river-isles out back,at twilight, they return.Talk andlaughter—whoshall I share them with?Deep in my belly, dark anddamp, I think of you. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments