Finally,
Donald passed away.
Heaven beckoned
On this side of ninety-one
But I tripped over seven
And completely missed eight.
Pity.
We had such an endearing friendship.
In this off-colored light
Your eyes are almost feline
Such a clever trick of the chase
Dealt to me for all the reasons short of wrong
The balloon is nothing more than
A heavy delusion
And I am stuck
Singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to a dying dog
Stolen, lost, confused…now found
I’m reeling
Arms outstretched and head plunged
Beneath the murky undertow. |
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