Midnight Anthem Poem by Donal Mahoney
Midnight Anthem
Chicago
Sunday evening. Drunk
and strolling home.
Roscoe's on his way,
block by block,
whistling as he goes
despite the lurching.
Weekend's gone,
Monday's turning.
Along the way
his fingers find
parking meter posts
are an endless xylophone
that only he can play
for all the world to hear
the midnight anthem
of a life misspent.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
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4/25/2024 2:21:53 AM # 1.0.0.1119
