The Grown-up Man I Feared

The distant drifter lived alone;
The youth in me discerned him weird:
No faith, no phantom friend to phone—
The grown-up man I feared.

No hope to harp, no creed to drum,
No soul to bleed through wounds unseared,
His frequent muse: that I’ve become
The grown-up man I feared.

Ed Morris, 2022

This page copyright © 2022 Edward A. Morris.  Created June 4, 2022.  Last updated June 5, 2022.

Back to home page