Calling card for all to see
a sign limply hanging by
faded field of greens,
cold wind slapping at forgotten words
while trees aged and passed
this day bare
as nature blended the days and nights
above the words FREE SALAD,
Letters once bold in red
now ragged and dazed,
like its writer older--
hands wrinkled and withered by life,
foretelling of another years death,
only to wish for calico
and an Indian summer.
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Reviews of "FREE SALAD"
Reviewed by Gaye Dale (Reader)
Reviewed on November 17, 2003
"Cold wind slapping at forgotton words"...
Love this line! Your imagery is wonderful!
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Love this line! Your imagery is wonderful!