Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2016
In the middle of a storm, rain crumbling the air,
My father died
I did not cry, nor care,
I sighed.  
Walking the ground I hummed a jaunty popular song
Knowing now, at last, he I could tread upon.
Written by
Stanley Wilkin  greenwich
(greenwich)   
353
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems