Mhall46184@aol.com
August - June
They are but faces, not even faces
But ovoid fuzzes like the innocents
In crime photographs (he was a quiet man
Who kept to himself, but his lawn was neat)
As term progresses their faces fill in
With the lines and colors of their stories
And when each story is brought up to date
Like Hamelin’s children they disappear
The years erase the chalkboard, but faces,
Faces and stories, linger forever
No comments:
Post a Comment