My Windswept Remains Poem by Aaron Graham

My Windswept Remains



I’m home for good,

But I don’t go home anymore

The blood on my body, it stains.

My sheets, my walls, my floors

And my girls. I always dream I could

Go back over and find my remains.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Jim Norausky 25 February 2009

This really a visceral poem. God bless. Jim

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