Poem 41

Found forgotten in a Box, Crowded like Siblings
Twenty-Six faces of toy soldiers
Lead laden, scattered rows
Low laying—punctuated
Hold the key to all I know.
Forgotten industrial children
So tediously inked.
Each piece of my unwritten vows,
Priced steeply, my regret.
I purchased every one of them,
I could not break the set. 


Please Join the Conversation

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s