I fixed the bed with our best sheets
checked now and then on a sick child
and wrote a poem about old men and women
about love
and stripping down to your scars.
checked now and then on a sick child
and wrote a poem about old men and women
about love
and stripping down to your scars.
I heard my ghost whisper to me
that I haven’t quite figured out
this love thing
this tangle of guts and wonder
that finds me bruised
like November apples
my skin blued to the bone
my peace
otherwise undisturbed.
© 2015 Ag Synclair
Ag Synclair publishes The Montucky Review and edits poetry for The Bookends Review. A Pushcart Prize nominee, he is widely published around the globe, yet flies under the radar. Deftly.
I was wondering how Ag got by
ReplyDeleteuntil I got
the him flying under the radar
and realized it was cooler
than jumping over it.