Author David Ignatow We drop in the evening like dew upon the ground and the living feel it on their faces. Death soft, moist everywhere upon us, soon to cover the living as they drop. This explains the ocean and the sun. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Reviews Post review No reviews yet. Log in or register to post comments