A Peom to Consider

In hopes of making a clean slate, here is something else for us to focus on besides my ridiculous mishaps on In this Together.

When I lived in City House (Beaver Falls, PA) I met a great neighborhood kid named James (some of you know him). He was often in trouble and seemed to have a lot of pent up aggression. He came into the house one night when I was writing poetry and I asked if he wanted to join me. It was the sweetest thing I ever heard to hear him say yes. This is what he wrote:

Big and brown with busted windows,
it sounds silent.
The burnt pieces of
the house felt light
it smelled like something was
burning, there was lots of broken pieces
of glass with
creaking steps

by: James

He never got to finish it.