dry

November 1, 2013 § 4 Comments

you
would think
someone would
check

papers
piling up on the porch
mail no longer fits
in the box
just a peek through
one little window
by the door is probably
all it would take

he
deserves dignity
of discovery but
he
is still waiting

in his slicker
fedora in one bony hand
umbrella, the other

his street
is thrumming with
summer laughter
under indiscriminate sun

it hasn’t rained
in over a month

(c) 2013 Fred Whitehead

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§ 4 Responses to dry

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