From Rob Mohr




he sits in the open door

head down

arms on his knees

spread to hold the weight/

mind sifting through

old dreams

angst and hopes/

as the day grows hot

surrounding him with

the only embrace he will/

ever know.


sounds spill out as children play

running chickens

kicking cans

clanking as they roll away,

awakening memories of the

long emptiness

dark vacuity/

as his mind opens

gripping him with the

last embrace he will

 ever feel.





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