These Wooden Boots
All I think of when I see these boots
is a hand full of dimes
squeaking at me through the leather
and broken soles that seem to grind
my feet to the ground
All I see is a row of wooden picture frames
and I count them, subtract them, divide them
into the hours that mark my sanity. Because I
am aware of time and can add, subtract, multiply
and divide it I breathe thro...
Tuesday 3rd January 2017 6:44 pm
Recent Comments
Auracle on Festive FM
1 hour ago
Tim Higbee on Grandfather
2 hours ago
TobaniNataiella on She Says Goodbye
3 hours ago
R A Porter on Sashaying to Byzantium
5 hours ago
Ray Miller on Dominoes
9 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on Beneath the Armour: Reaching for True Strength
9 hours ago
Reggie's Ghost on Dominoes
10 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Early winter's day
10 hours ago
John Coopey on IT AIN'T ME, BABE
10 hours ago
John Marks on Early winter's day
10 hours ago