A House Of Dust Poem by James McLain

James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By

A House Of Dust



a House of Dust,
knows the wind that gathers.
Savanna our home fair oaks unlike
the rest of my dear Georgia.
Our prayers for you my each and as
I reach for that one speacial daisy.
Butter cups held up under your chin,
how does it go when your chin is so yellow.
Gathered around all of you pecans and pie
enough goes around,
each one thin slice for you, nanna holds for you.
Can you follow the bee to it's far away hive,
did it sting you?
pull it out be on your way around the oak
to where it is cut.
Take care with the fire it may spread throught
the brush, do not forget your bucket of water.
Walking up the old steps they creak and they
bend, nails rusted a few heads missing.
Thr front door lies open and the leaves move
off down the hall
and out through the back, dust devils stir memories
old photo graphs
piles of old envelopes hold the shadow of death.
Many now gone, some once called home.
Only I know these things moving through them.

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James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By
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