Thomas Raguar

Rookie (11.25.1982)

Pub - Poem by Thomas Raguar

No wind whipping
through my wings;

Liquid in great draughts
of booze; no rain.

Community; a sense of proper
placement; not the
milling unentered rabble.

Conversations of football,
birds, work and beer.

Individuals stricken with
'stranger; ' our mothers'
warned us.


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Poem Submitted: Saturday, May 13, 2006

Poem Edited: Saturday, July 24, 2010

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