Classic poem of the day
If " ifs " and " ands "
Were pots and pans,
There would be no need for tinkers!
Member poem of the day
We crowd into line
outside the funeral home,
to pay our respects
to Luke’s mother,
eyelids shut
like the casket lid,
to his father, antsy
indoors, and Luke,
locked inside the casket,
hiding the way he played tag
in his parents’ backyard
at dusk, the adults’
cigarette tips glowing
safety from the porch,
while we snuck
tree trunk to tree trunk,
not knowing where “tag”
might come from,......
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