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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