Flowers like Abandoned Mortar

Bob Whiteside poem, writing April 4, 2019January 21, 2020 1 Minute

I leave. Before
I shave.

Hands like silence.
Binoculars too.

No round trip.
In the dark.

Flowers like abandoned mortar.
I step with handsome dynamite.

At last. Poem verses
Poem.

I walk in the lyrics
Of burning throats.

Before I brush.

Published by Bob Whiteside

Published April 4, 2019January 21, 2020

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