Written by Bogdan Dragos
he’s but 26
but looks 62 as he
walks the
streets in his
rugged,
bum clothes
and drinks what he finds
in the trash cans
and eats
nothing
“He’s a poet,” the
law-abiding citizens
of the town say
when passing him
by in the
streets
They’re not
entirely wrong, but
it’s been years since
he put anything down on
a page
He’s now writing, sometimes,
with jagged stones
on the sides of buildings
“And in my heart,” says
another one of
the law-abiding citizens
who watches him daily
from her
high window
and writes her own
poems about him
I WILL REMIND YOU EVERY DAY
IF YOU WANT
OF EACH AND EVERY WAY
YOU HAUNT
MY DREAMS
but before she can go
on, a child’s voice
from the other
room calls out that it’s
hungry
and asks what’s for
lunch
“Dreams with a side
of regret,” the mother says,
only for her
own ears to hear
It feels poetic
But
it’s not the time to
be poetic
it’s time to make
food
and to bury the past a
little deeper
Text © Bogdan Dragos
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Thank you!
This deeply resonates 🙂
Get it Bogdan!!!!! You know I’ll always cheer you on!
(つ✧ω✧)つ Many thanks, Edge of Humanity Magazine for the feature!