All the Way Down the Wall

 

He went back
to where he came from
nothing there but
regret and insomnia.
Sometimes almost
all the time
it’s blue all
the way down the wall.

He got fat
in winter but then
leaned up in the heat
of labor and ease.
Sometimes almost
all the time
it vacillates all
the way down the wall.

How he met his
father after decades
was while volunteering
at the homeless shelter.
Sometimes almost
all the time
it’s lonely all
the way down the wall.

Security had
no hold on him
lost in youth
hardly missed.
Sometimes almost
all the time
it’s cloudy all
the way down the wall.

When he met his
wife his weakness
was her independence
they drifted like snow.
Sometimes now
the most sublime
tint of belonging
colors his wall.

 

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About mrsorenson

NOT my president
This entry was posted in poem, poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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