injustice

 

wind on a green day green morning

worries heavy spring branches

 

this is just another stupid poem

about the spring - all the old

themes come rushing out with mossy

teeth, closet breath, dusty eyes

so the world is out there

but here we are now all wrapped

tight in words and feelings trying

to name something we held firmly

yesterday but which today has drifted

over to someone else's front yard

we're left like guppies with big

questions dangling from our tiny

fish butts

 

what will the day present


All poems by Br. Tom Murphy, O. Carm.

My Poems

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