DEAD MAN POEMING
ABOUT THE DEAD MAN’S HOLIDAY
this is no country for dead men,
thought the one who was feeling peaked.
the dead man was feeling rained on.
troubles poured down on the head of the dead man.
holiday spirits haunted his waking hours.
the dead man had never tried a hot toddy, but wanted one.
he wanted warmth and sweetness and above all alcohol.
the dead man wanted to receive the spirit.
MORE ABOUT THE DEAD MAN’S HOLIDAY
the dead man would have liked to stroll around the neighborhood, looking at fairy lights.
the lights were twinkling at him through his foggy windshield.
red and green and white and plum and amaryllis and blue blue Christmas blue, they winked.
the dead man coaxed the old, not classic, Mustang across the stop street on the hillside, praying.
the clean black pavement was visible beneath the ice, but his crusty black tires did not know that.
the dead man knew as he knew to the foot how far he was from his front door.
still, the night was clear, and there were stars.
the new year beckoned.
at Big Tent Poetry, you can find out more about Dead Man poems, and even read some good ones.