Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2015
he has the look of a woman with a place to die. he grounds my father with a sickness reserved for flying creatures. he owns nothing. his people are a hospital my mother calls one too many. his prayers replenish absence. he counts in the garden an invisible populace whose dreams my dreams were having.
Barton D Smock
Written by
Barton D Smock  48/M/Columbus, Ohio
(48/M/Columbus, Ohio)   
153
   ---, ---, Mote and Tom McCone
Please log in to view and add comments on poems