Monday, September 09, 2019

all to say


mom, your baby boy is old and crippled.
sitting on the porch when the mailman came,
heard the lid on the box close;
said hi but no reply,

talk too softly usually.

i told m, she got the mail from the box on the gate.
that's my poem for today,
full up, emptied out, all i had to say.

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