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The Deadly

by David Maurice

I've gone cold escaping

I am a patchwork roof
quilted with shingles
old and worn

The squirrels
and the birds
and the rains
know the way in

I am a cracked mug
I am a thin-lipped saucer
brimming over

I lie on the table-cloth,
patterned wheels left in a time
when colours were bright
I see the threads hang down

My cheek is grained,
hardwood heavy on my breath,
boards warped with the moisture

The cellar yawns a promise,
green eyes in the darkness pooling,
foundations crumbling below


Author's Note: sins

Posted on 06/16/2014
Copyright © 2021 David Maurice

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Colleen Sperry on 06/17/14 at 09:57 AM

very interesting write

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