ray nyland.
his dad was a busdriver
his mom was a chainsmoker
the house he lived in was
the size of our kitchen
and he had seven siblings
there was a lifesize
cardboard cutout of him
with my mom
prom king and queen
spring 1977
his wife didn't let him be
what he wanted to be
a teacher
now he works at the local
hospital's blood bank
she cried looking at the moon,
"does he still think of me
when we watch it
at the same time?
miles
and ages
away?"
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i really like this poem especially the way the lines are broken up at the end. i can hear the way it may be spoken in that last paragraph; getting slower and slower.
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