The putrid smoke from the pit drifted and stung my nostrils-
Plastic arms and legs, a doll's head,
melting in the dying flames.
Water from my hose, unable to extinguish the death of such an innocent.
Gallons and gallons of tears-
wasted along my way.
Pity.
cKs.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Getting rid of old stuff in my shed, burning months and months of garbage n trash... at the end of the night, flames just smoldering... doused with hours worth of water from my garden hose...
Thought the fire was completely out...
Next morning... flames still danced from the baby doll...
that just simply...
Would not die.
-Kelly.
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