Death speaks thru the window of the train
While we travel going nowhere from the past to the present
in our clothes from best to worse and back again
looking for the answers to the riddle of questions
wanting to know who the Three Stooges represent
in our lives spent deceived by the world surrounding. 5.23.17
Good poem, Gordon!
LikeLike
Gerry, I was clearing out some of my emails (2,000 +)and I came upon your note a second time as I am sure I replied before but wanted to say thank you again. You are one of the writers that I know and respect and to have you comment just made my day the first time I saw it and again today when I came across it again. So, thanks, and I hope all is well with you and yours. Best to you, Gordon.
LikeLike