poem fodder

Prose Only
Jan 19, 1987



Yesterday was salted with tension and filth but today, today I discovered why the sun strives to thin the clouds. A winter chill can not set in the bones of someone whose sun is out.
Today memories became permanent; my childhood home was stripped of my family's presence. Boxes, mostly of junk, (when viewed as a whole) were swiftly loaded into a large hearse. And in the background large trees, that use to barely reach the sky, rocked slowly in our breeze.