The PanhandlerA Poem by GraybeardThe result of a 6 word exercise
The old man's few remaining teeth
are yellow ghosts, haunting the space between his cracked lips. He loiters outside my building every morning. An exchange of words, a denial of currency, and a God bless you; both our lies twisting round a different set of ghosts in the graveyard city where we live. © 2008 GraybeardAuthor's Note
Reviews
|
Stats
204 Views
3 Reviews Added on May 30, 2008 AuthorGraybeardEvansville, INAboutJimi Hendrix once said, "The story of life is quicker than the blink of an eye. The story of love is hello, goodbye." Can this be true? Are all the greatest stories so fleeting? I believe so. I b.. more..Writing
|