Tuesday, February 6, 2018
Tears Comments
Rating: ★5.0
are shed, and every day
workers recover
the bloated cadavers
of lovers or lover
who drown in cars this way.
And they crowbar the door
and ordinary stories pour,
furl, crash, and spill downhill -
as water will - not orient,
nor sparkling, but still.
...
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Michael Donaghy
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12/7/2025 12:02:15 PM # 1.0.0
If only someone had helped them roll down the windows of the soul, perhaps the water would have only washed away their sadness not drown their hearts... great poem.