No This Is Better
A white blanket covers the city.
Tucks us in like children at bed time.
THE temperature has fallen to 15.*
My bones rattle... like window panes.
As strong winds- blow on them.
Not knowing if I'm going to live or die.
standing in line like souls waiting to be judge.
I have not a grudge.
Just want that harder
then the ground sandwich.
And a bowl of ice soup.
makes me almost want to return home
To the lashings -of my drunk Father.
As he yells I love you!!
No-- this is better.
Copyright 2011 JohnnyPaul Davis
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