night poem, august 28, 2016

 

 

He sat on the porch everyday

Still as a photograph

Pipe in hand and

Spittoon beside the rocker

Every neighbor knew him

And some would visit in the day

No one ever knew me like he did

Everything was always alright

When I sat with him

Even when I was in trouble

He knew it wasn’t the end of the world

All men had sinned and would again

 

Copyright 2016

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