Nicola Sparks-Jones “Men and Bread”

Men and Bread

by Nicola Sparks-Jones

 Rain,

brown leaves.

Smell the rotting garbage?

Dust swirls,

a distant star shines.

I hear laughter,

a siren,

a car speeding away

from a stone thrown in anger.

 

Cricket climbing on damp wood,

as lightning kisses the autumn sky.

 

Kittens and puppies

sleeping among the leaves

and pine needles.

 

Cool hands carry the funeral bread.

 

Icicles form on the patient crow.

The horse snorts.

The white dog growls,

still searching puddles

along the ruins.

 

Smoke swirls and curls

into the clouds.

 

The angry elk’s nostrils flare

as sand scratches his cornea

raw like meat and blood.

 

Screeching jays circle above the playground

as the child smiles.

 

The mother smokes

a cigarette,

a dirty-faced baby

on her hip.

 

Shoulders slouch

as she contemplates a life

that could have been

if she had

been less sentimental

with her men

and stayed home with her

mother to

make the funeral

bread instead.

About The Author

Nicola_Sparks-Jones

Raised in poverty in an oppressive religious household in Oklahoma, Nicola was taught that a woman’s purpose in life was to serve her God and husband.  She took refuge in books, reading voraciously for escape and entertainment.  Today she enjoys writing and poetry classes at the Community College of Denver.

 

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One comment

  1. shara miller · · Reply

    Very awesome!! What a great writer you have always been!!

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