Sometimes, I think

I’m an elephant,

because I’m gray.

My memory is

flawless, at least

when remembering

all the ways

I keep sad thoughts

in my trunk, spraying

their coldness on

my back each day.

I’m getting grayer,

and eventually,

I’ll meet my

elephant friends,

in the graveyard,

praying by my


© CGT, 2018.

Blogging Poetry

Obol View All →

Obol is a poet and an infrequent writer of prose.

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