Posted on Leave a comment

A Visit from Sons

Poetry suffers when my sons are here

with me, poetry, friends, work

all falls languishing by the way.

Mourning doves carry on

passing judgment.  Let them!

I know where my heart lies.

It is here, with my sons and the

intendeds they care to share with me.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *