by Jerry Buckley
Banished to the caves again
by love's sour pickle satiation;
a listless leaking fountain pen
Angry at the world tonight,
but mostly at my self delusion;
seeking easy ways to make it right
Called to mind a Bee Gees tune
fresh picked and hauntingly familiar;
like dish must have been with the spoon
Remembering your touch and sight,
tonight, however distant ever drawn;
a lunar moth to your lantern light
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Jerry Buckley is a commercial truck agent residing and working in middle Tennessee. He is a high school and collegiate soccer official, and home brewer. He and his wife enjoy travelling together and experiencing other cultures. He enjoys the outdoor life, reading, music, and impressionistic art.