An Ode to the Czar by S. Pelham FloodNever boring, the large Slav is late.
Dressed like his court jester,
he isnt suave. His complexion is pasty
and graying hair frames his wrinkled face,
his eyes are bloodshot and exposed.
His pock-marked cheeks, lightly freckled,
used to bounce when hed laugh
and sing to his little girl
as he ushered her to sleep.
Being a father gave him meaning in his palace,
the light of the empire, the patriarch
of this callous world. 07/02/2006 Posted on 07/02/2006 Copyright © 2024 S. Pelham Flood
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