Monday, September 25, 2017

From Picture to Page: Flag Day

Trying this exercise out again. I've been more productive lately, and I could use the practice. Poem under the cut.





Last Stand

The last thing to go
after a widow clears her home,
forever unfurled
since the last bad weather

Too old to reach
on the rickety porch
too proud to ask
the liberal neighbors
who shovel the driveway.

What bag will the new owners
bury it in, one night when
the coast is clear,
not enough ground to bury,
no grills or fires allowed
in the backyard.

Conspiratorial traitors,
we wait till no one
remembers to ask.
We scour through
the detritus of the move
to her children’s home.

We pick through furniture,
leave the World War 2 books
the VCR tapes,
disown the last burden
they refuse to put down.


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