Buried With Him - Poem by Frank Avon
I sit on my deck
warmed by the sun,
immersed in sounds:
the clicks of katydids, in waves
a chipper songbird to my left
the bass of a lawnmower in the distance
a breeze among the leaves, whispering
I am reading
about the American theocracy
but the voices that surround me
baptize me in sounds.
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