Elephant

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

grave.


© CGT, 2018.

Blogging Poetry

Obol View All →

Obol is a poet and an infrequent writer of prose.

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