By A.S. Coomer
Nothing in its rightfully owed splendor
Birds chirp for themselves,
bookworms gobble words for themselves.
It’s all for naught
or selfish plunder,
which amounts to much of the same:
Nothing for nothing’s sake.
Bio: A.S. Coomer is a native Kentuckian serving out a purgatorial existence somewhere in the Midwest. His work has appeared in over thirty publications. He’s got a handful of novels that need good homes.