On The Good Side
Hot damn
on the good side of Terra Firma
you know the topside of the ground
sat on the stoop
took a quick look around
the fog
the smoke
the staleness of the air
inhaled deeply shouted inwardly
hot damn and thank god I’m still here!...
grabbed a bit of brown grass
from a patch of city sooty soil
did a little spin around stood up on my toes
stretched out my arms whispered
bring on the city noise
I’m here for awhile
take a good look world see my two feet still
above the ground
Clyde A. Wray
April 10, 2009
All Rights Reserved
Friday, April 10, 2009
Blog Archive
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2009
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April
(19)
- The Poet/The Poem/Baseball
- Please, Don't Look At My Shoes
- Louder (Rainbow People)
- Thicker Than A Pound Butter
- Sonnet # 221
- Censorship, Politicians And A Empty Refrigerator
- Excuse Me, Did You Mistake My Vote As A Referendum...
- Indifference By Another Name Is Called A Politician
- Help It Appears To Be Contagious
- Another Mystery, Who, Why and To and From Where
- The Day The Yellow Marigolds Didn't Arrive
- Wicked Hot Flair
- Before The Facts Become A BlurIt matters notwhere ...
- When Cannons Roar
- She's Found Wings
- On The Good Side
- Silence
- Sonnet # 220
- You Gave Them Wings To Fly High
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April
(19)