Potted plant, ceramic,
the dirt and the ants inhabit
its cracks and crevices, aged
and lightly eroded
moreover
Sweet Home, so ugly
chipped floors, bubbled ceiling
the squeaky doors with the
broken anything
But I know your sidewalks
better than anyone else.
No other place has the same ant hills.
They miss me more than anyone could.
Comments1
Awesome!
thanks for choosing to share, dear poet
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.