365 Days of Poetry: Day Ninety

God, I hope I spelled that right. I am one of those people who gets drunk for the holidays. Especially since I have this tooth pain thing going on.

 

calling up the voices of the past.

through song.

this is the day I morn.

both founding mothers.

their presence still here.

in me.

and their daughters.

her sons.

two have left and she,

she had only one.

that night, we remember.

I hope he doesn’t have to.

today.

I have not told.

my brother, what happened.

we are long removed, but

you do not do such a thing to our family.

I want retribution.

he is lucky.

the distance is great.

and there is no funeral.

this year.

one day, one day though.

we will have our tithe.

and he will fall.

for his sins.

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About June Faramore

Writer of fantasy, mainstream, and young adult fiction. Poet and sketcher. Mother. I read a lot and love cheese. Guitar playing singer-songwriter. I also enjoy stepping on the cracks in the sidewalk. View all posts by June Faramore

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