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Open Poetry #37
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To my first coach
| Open Poetry #37 |
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To my first coach |
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smithdr Junior Member
since 2006-02-25
Posts 26 |
To My First Coach dear Dave Battison, you must be something old by now, something matte, something finished, a barrage of stains, a fat face etched softly onto a garnished alcoholic, a fluorescent core hulled and haled over asphalt tracks, half a dog half buried in aspirations, half covered in yesterdays Sudbury star. newspaper articles, stripped and clipped, stick heavy next to stainless steal handles guarding the minds milk. I’m sure you’ve expired into statues of wax shavings ironed out over the blistered toes of your Sunday sneakers – speckled with droplets of sweat and urine, sweet from salted beverages and double-doubles. Dave, what an impression you made. what a race I had. but from one winner to another: “you really dropped the ball.” |
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| © Copyright 2006 smithdr - All Rights Reserved | |||
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The Lady Member Rara Avis
since 2005-12-26
Posts 7634The Southwest |
Now THIS is a poem! Not sloppy.  I like that in a poem. Great job! |
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froggy Senior Member
since 2003-06-23
Posts 1893Michigan |
Enjoyed :-) Until he extends the circle of his compassion to all living things, |
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