I wish I was back there, winter’s chill gone
with the sun and my coconut curry
soup. Breathing bready smells, gazing down on
the Dogwood trees on West Paces Ferry.
My dad: I think he and I have the same
soul. We went by ourselves for a whole day,
Wand’ring around the museum that became
my favorite spot. Every display.
Where we read labels to our hearts’ content –
Civil war battles covered in dust, from
the lies that followed wherever they went.
German painter Wilhelm Heine spoke to us:
“Remember what I’ve put on this canvas
and don’t ever let it happen again.”
Categories:
cyclorama, america, education, father daughter,
Form: Sonnet
Braggadocio Obama
Junior senator melodrama
Created terrorist cyclorama
Over and over killing Osama
Categories:
cyclorama, adventure,
Form: Rhyme