Tag Archives: Cold

The Curb Can be Cold

Here we are again, once more on the curb
What we own is here, on the lawn, in the “burb”
All were looking and we’d hoped not to disturb
Old friends closed drapes, when Dad’s cries were heard

His job and home gone, no one seemed to care
Once his shotgun was found, he looked for stares
Raising his gun, cops killed him there in his chair
All were looking and we’d hoped not to scare

© 2014 Michael Yost 03/05

It Was A Cold Rainy Sunday Afternoon

Push hard the black pencilSolace
Making it really dull
Wrinkle and rip the stencil
Give them something to mull

Not with too much tensile
All words need to be culled
Boiled down like the lentil
Leaving nothing made null

© 2011 Michael Yost