Tombstone
I was not important
When I walked, my GPS was a nursery rhyme
an earworm
the nose of a hungry dog
When I flew, there was no sonic boom
I chased sirens, hoped to be the emergency
the first responder
Arms sprung from my chest, reached for moons
grasped air
Walls between inside and outside
never really held
My life was stolen fire
What burned was the illusion it was mine
8 thoughts on "Tombstone"
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Dang, Mike! This feels ecstatic and oracular, like a poem by Blake.
Yes I agree. Incredible spoken aloud piece.
Oh !!!!!!!!!
Mike, this is incredible 😲
Beautiful on the page and the
old saying
“spacing creates pacing” absolutely applies.
And of course perfect landing.
Craft.
Agree re the impact of positioning on the page. Well done.
“what burned was the illusion it was mine” is so impactful. Thank you for sharing this poem, Mike!
favorite line: “the nose of a hungry dog”
The earworm GPS – absolutely! Very craft-worthy, heartfelt, with a touch of dark humor. Loved it.
Thanks everyone for your kind comments