Throw The Roses
By Shae
like vultures disecting blood unchanged by christanity woren long black cliched items in their despair shadows over his grave climbing across his coffin not even remembering to throw the roses taking the rest that made him whole to claim their new found riches opening the papers under lock and key reminsing him in their youth cold, withdrawal saturday mornings scrubbing walls white holy-bound pushing televisions upstairs for soul train like a solider he commanded in the realm of swords they left their diplomas given as presents that sit in the fire place untouched with debris only the gold rimmed salt-shakers remain from his ma-ma his grandchilden recall the attic of enchantment where toy trains brought out the child in him the dollys that sat in the chest and the gifts of enlarged sweaters that were given in exchanged for his good-bye five years before he forgot who they were Written January 17th, 2002 © on Jan 17 2002 02:26 PM PST 0 • 8
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"like vultures..."