Leaving Kansas Poem by David Kowalczyk
Leaving Kansas
Rambunctious August night,
teeming with sweating fireflies
and hypnotic Klezmer music.
I leap out of bed
and open the window.
Satars the size of dimes
shoot into the room.
A tiny pain squeezes my heart.
I am bleeding.
I am bleeding.
I must change my life.
My tribe lives by dreams,
not by compromise.
Clicking the radio on,
I hear George Shearing
dancing on the moon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/26/2024 7:11:31 AM # 1.0.0.1119
