The Mantling

Published March 12, 2014 by rlmcdermott

my father
opened
his eyes
three years
after his
death–they
were blue

you must
live to
stand apart
from everything
you need

and make
poetry
of your
pain

his last
words
to me
were
rhymes–

a severed leg
a broken heart
a foolish dreamThe Mantling

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