November 2011
1 post
4 tags
Coat
Forgotten strands hang neglected, Uncut, and untied Fraying and weighing Down the cloth that isn’t in tatters. What is a man’s life but a coat on stick? I see the threadbare garment sag As the wind blows another day, But never dropping away to be forgotten. They each must remain but for Conscious cutting, and one may darn what damage befalls it. But never again. How queer to...
