*
*
*
*
*Grief stomps through the door
in his muddy boots. He claims
the best chair. He drops his bags
on the floor. He wants his dinner.
He wants a drink. He wants to lay
his heavy body on my body.*
--
sharon brogan
http://www.sbpoet.comhttp://www.sbpoet.nethttp://smallpoems.sbpoet.net
406.578.1788