Poetry for Strangers: Vox

dry country

i woke up in a different country
a dry country
my memory was parched as the land
i was someone in the wetlands once
but i dont remember who
maybe i was a smuggler or a thief
or the sheriffs two bit deputy
i dont recall
there was a sack of silver dollars
that i remember
hidden under the whisky staves
i mighta stole it from the mayor

when i woke i found a note
in my pocket
go see the blue widow by the lake
it said
walk ten miles south by east
bring her a white lily
beware the leopard


For more, visit Poetry for Strangers: Vox


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 )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google 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 )

Connecting to %s