Monday, November 23, 2015

David Norris writes

Waking Up

The girl next door 
the pretty one with 
the pony tail swinging 
behind her lovely face

I try to talk to her 
every chance encounter 
Always she smiles and then 
turns and runs away

into her apartment where 
she lives with another 
pretty girl, also shy 
They both woke up dead

this November morning 
I slept through it all 
the fire, like some 
kind of cruel joke

When the phone rang 
I heard it raining 
in her mother's heart 
her father standing beside her

both crying for their little girl 
the pretty one with the pony tail 
who lives next door 
with the shy one

who both woke up dead 
this beautiful morning


  1. Hi Duane,
    I started this poem 40 years ago and walked away from it until today.
    I've finished it.
    You are the first to see it.

  2. Elegant simplicity. Heart-felt.


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