I wake up whispering,
“It was not much of an offering.”
Snow soft-shoes the glass.
…….
A boy mumbles in the closet,
“Forgive me father for I have sinned.”
Lied. Swore. Hit my brother.
…….
Thinking about crow’s change
I give meaning to the snow-powdered carcass;
build an altar with twigs.
…….
I dream of a former boss.
He asks me, “What do you dream?
What are your nightmares?”
Powerful last stanza.
Thanks Jerron.
I love all that is unsaid in this poem – in fact in all your poems. The space and silence you leave around the words is powerful, meaningful, and evocative.
Thanks Michele!
I would so like to write verses of the not-obvious like you do.
Thanks very much Audrey!