youngsters don’t sigh much
we old folks do it a lot
whining without words
Gary Hunter
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See Allnever ever write a poem after reading the newspaper unless you intend to counterpoint social injustice murder or war try a favorite cup...
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the sloppy soap the endless rinse of dirt and scum that annoying spray shaken from a dog’s misery 500 scissored snips to hear “nice job”...
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after 70 years it no longer hurts and I don’t mourn or even sigh in silence at the end of a day I’m OK letting another one go whatever...
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