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You are here: Home / Poetry / young plebeian

young plebeian

January 20, 2016 3 Comments

I come here, of preference
none speak of brilliance
as a younger man
as a plebeian
I played an ashen guitar on a perch stone
as the gray creek’s thin-froth murmur
mumbled its drunken poems
wide-eyed bluegills listened
warm sunshine glistened
with never a mention
of shame
as a younger man
as a plebeian
I was once
nearly forgiven

3 Comments

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Comments

  1. thoughtsgather says

    January 20, 2016 at 3:50 am

    ๐Ÿ™‚

    Reply
  2. Eric says

    January 20, 2016 at 4:03 am

    I think you’re just happy that your fingers finally thawed out ๐Ÿ™‚

    Reply
  3. thoughtsgather says

    January 22, 2016 at 2:35 am

    Just saw this. Yes, that’s exactly what the smile was for ๐Ÿ˜‰

    Reply

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