Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2014
father waits for the empty elevator.  in dream, he understands the holiness of such a place and takes to mourning the momentary loss of his interpreter.  he gives me a toy and blesses it with what he calls alone time.  his exact words are you have to like it before you’re asked.  you sleep on the stairs in a house you enter shoeless.  stay put.  the movers of my bed move my death.
Barton D Smock
Written by
Barton D Smock  48/M/Columbus, Ohio
(48/M/Columbus, Ohio)   
203
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems