Washed In Tears
of Mia

though without a penny nearly,
I am right here composing,
my daughter weeping,
she, her sister, their mother thinking
I was instead decomposing

they called and called,
they have this long stick,
the telephone, to poke me with
like an animal, too far off in its cage
to hug as well as too dangerous


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
12:55 p.m. 16/11/07