A free verse poem

Photo by Josh Applegate on Unsplash

Below the parapet of a
mahogany cattle pen,
backside numb in a hard-bench row,
I shiver in musty air.
Winter coat zipped to the chin,
script clutched in gloved hand,
ready for when we,
the compacted minions,
in ranks, will chant
our King James verse.

Vows, then
penitence sought for
involuntary actions.
Blessings…

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Dan Morrissey

Dan Morrissey

Literature is the roadmap for understanding humanity | Reader | Writer | Teacher | Editor of the THE MUSE