Three Forms, One Frame
· 2 min read
guy that wants to come up with a profound title
This is a poem to Jon, my true friend,
To a vagrant like me, a road on which to end,
A beachfront retreat without fence or police.
Against my gusts and drops and shouting hail,
He stood, anchored, like a bastion, laughing—
Silent, shoulders bobbing, drool slathering his chin;
His stomach, eyes, face, and dignity all puckered.