some-thing

it had been a chessboard
and nothing else
from plain cardboard and perfect squares
it stood upon the bookcase in the living room
after the old man died
no one knew where else it was

only the little girl writing neverending stories
would eventually
remember

Advertisements
Categories: My Poems in 2014 | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

Post navigation

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.