Foreclosure On A Sunny Day
a poem by David H. Roche
Foreclosure on a sunny day
a place no more my head to lay,
weary body, weary soul,
life indeed does take its toll.
Walking by the river deep
wishing for a place to sleep
I found a bed with cold water blankets
to cover my head.
Now the dungeness nibble
and sea lions thrash about
octopi gather
plucking off my snout.
I don't feel cold
the cold water blankets are warm,
tonight I sleep,
but tomorrow no dawn.
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