Thursday, January 15, 2015

Sticks and stones and guns

My last post has left a bad taste -  
the legacy of haste

When anger ascends
there is no end

Sticks and stones and guns
and words
are all heard.

My son cried
when I tried
to deny
his first chance to fire
a gun,
he was young
nine or ten;
boys will be men.

What girls will be
I can't see.


  1. Excellent combination of visual and verse.

  2. Thanks. It's funny how you write a poem and nine times out of ten you find a fitting image to go with it.I can only marvel at the internet.