| |
Out in the front, the kids romp
Over smooth green grass,
Under the early rising sun
Where neighbors meet and plant
Neatly-spaced flowers
And cleanly pruned shrubs.
Bored, they saunter inside,
Singing through well-lived rooms
Past furniture that sighs,
And on and out towards the back
Where Pop once sat silently
Under a dark, aging sky.
Near the crumbling stone patio,
They see spiders spin their webs
As the moss grows through flower beds.
My son buried his rabbit there,
In the center of a ring of stones,
In allegiance to the Dead, he said.
There, the stars reach down,
Beaming over small peeking heads
Against a boundless black sky.
All are orbs, gleaming like diamonds,
Each an excavation from once deep
Dark holes and soul-squinting eyes.
|
Help Us Stop Plagiarism -
Nearly all works at PnP are original. However a few people choose to plagiarize.
To check, choose a phrase from the work, then either drag and drop to the search box or copy and paste.
click on search and works at Google will be shown which match. Just to be sure, please do this before
you recommend or rate the work highly...
|
 |
|
|
|
Select a Random Work from Poetry
|
|