Poem: Holler Holier Day

 

Holler Holier Day

Would that you

might have a bubbling

need for turning leaves or shifting sand

will bear effect

on you and yours,

on yours much loss is possible –

 

 

how long you’ll stay, what

change may come from ops on

fly and friends took up,

a rising son of an established parish is that

of a daughter in bribing shots –

 

 

an un-loved bed, a plate not laid,

and your plains veering, swerving fate

as free of duty waits

on call to pack, to board,

to stow, a hoard

 

 

that tans the gleam which

white lies feed. Due process

drains with garments made,

as others plan a sharpened skull,

a bolder look when borders flayed.

 

PatMellow 2020

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