unpublished elsewhere - not representing another Forum
Dwindling Warmth and Comfort of Our Days'
Birds, dented and off course.
Men on porches, rough as goats.
My face stern as a warden
Did I mention my wife died?
She loved Barcelona and painted
Under rain faded cork trees,
Bright colors of a child’s crayon.
Her touch wore white gloves,
She drank Dubonnet with me.
Her sundress clean and stiff
As a girl at first Communion.
I am not able to sleep at night.
Not that I sleep during the day.
The drifting clutter of low voices
like a poorly tuned radio.
Dusk comes on. Winter solstice
Already I'm the oldest person
I know by first name.
Our discussion forum for topics related to writer's block, poetry, the literary arts in general, and anything else of cosmic import.
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