Snapshot Poem
28 September 02016
R.I.P. Max Richards
I struggle up
from unpleasant
dreams. Sit down
to put on my socks.
Go downstairs one
step at a time.
I sweep yellow leaves
from the garden chair.
Another day.
Another death.
Another hole
in the social net.
Another blank canvas.
Another unwritten poem.
I pull my winter coats
from the back closet.
A steady
unravelling
at the center
of this abundant life.
--
sharon brogan
http://www.sbpoet.com
http://www.sbpoet.net
http://smallpoems.sbpoet.net
406.578.1788
|