Grove Street
B
Barry Middleton
0
Altın Yaprak
I remember looking for mercy
not the street but the hospital
did someone really tell me Grove Street
that was in a day when memory was alive
it seemed a heartless place
where the hopeless sought out modern miracles
the hypodermics were still made of glass
finely machined by diamonds
but there was barbaric medicine
sleepless nightmares for a dying giant
and rites of passage for a boy
I turned and ran from the smell of despair
I never went back to Grove Street
a few years later the phone rang
my father died at home near his window
outside the dogwood bloomed again that spring
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş