365 Days of Poetry: Day Two-Hundred and Forty-One

From the archives.

Dead Morning

they fell.
it was about.
on a typical weekday morning.

I sat.
too shocked for tears.
the armchair.
supporting my shock, your head.

the world.
a different place.
for you now.
born in the year when terror began.

their war.
not ours.
all I can teach.
is a way to live by peace.

we walked.
uncle sam and I.
over streets.
in a world not quite as real.

the paper.
I saved it.
but as often happens.
it was washed away in another disaster.

it dawns.
the new world order.
and we survive.
frolicking about in the pieces.


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

this side, that side

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