Jun 29 2009
Poetry: Magee
I wrote this around Thanksgiving 2004 after witnessing my grandfather’s last moments. Magee was his and my step-father’s nickname for each other.
Mist fills the glass
Once twinkling bright
Leather once pink
bruised grape paper
Claw grips tightly
Squeezing me raw
I am without moisture
but weep
Callous, I am
helpless unable
spiraling rapid
caught in your tornado
