Saint On WheelsA Poem by Monet Fielding
Saint on wheels
counselor to olive branches
fresh on the move
human mostly
marked with some hostility towards the average day
answering only certain questions
picking winners and losers from files
matches in his pocket
boots on the table
there are things he can’t quite figure out
like how dreams diminish
and how the years keep coming
but he keeps that to himself
until it spews out of him
all at once
without warning
© 2008 Monet Fielding |
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1 Review Added on July 4, 2008 Last Updated on July 7, 2008 AuthorMonet FieldingSan Francisco, CAAboutI'm Monet and I've been writing for as long as I can remember. All of my writing and friends were deleted from Writers Cafe sometime ago...I guess I forgive them now or whatever. I also have some edit.. more..Writing
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