A Poet’s Work

He comes the other way,
a belly of puffing in his mouth.
A child’s floral sun hat
rests on his bald head
and he carries an oven rack
that swings with his stride.
My mind dandles oddities
knowing
he’s done my work for me.

dVerse Quadrille “work” hosted by msjadeli

12 thoughts on “A Poet’s Work

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