When I was Lost

When I was lost,
stumbling thru,
“Leaves of Grass”,
amber waves of grain,
a life lived in the yellow hue of a tobacco stained sun,
a baby cried.

A  newborn, 
quivering rain cold,
swaddled in corse
motel linen.

There was no breast too warm,
no mother’s kiss too gentle,
when I was lost.

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Filed under original writing, poetry

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