POEM: Could Be Worse: or, Slow News Year

Posted on May 9, 2020 by B Gourley

There’s famine in the heartland —
lungs full of the blowing sands.

People huddle near the fire,
waiting on the news, sans wire.

But the news won’t get better
by the time you get the letter
it’ll long since quit being news —
it’ll be lyrics for the Blues.

9 thoughts on “POEM: Could Be Worse: or, Slow News Year”

T. Maxwell-Harrison on May 9, 2020 at 8:22 pm said:

Nice 🙂

LikeLiked by 1 person

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C.J. Boock on May 9, 2020 at 8:54 pm said:

Too true

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Silk Cords on May 10, 2020 at 3:56 am said:

Nicely done. If that doesn’t about sum things up, I don’t know what does. 🙂

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- B Gourley on May 10, 2020 at 8:22 am said:
  
  Thanks
  
  LikeLiked by 1 person
  
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d.a.simpsonwriter on May 11, 2020 at 6:32 pm said:

Beautiful

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- B Gourley on May 11, 2020 at 6:54 pm said:
  
  Thanks
  
  LikeLike
  
  Reply ↓
  - d.a.simpsonwriter on May 12, 2020 at 5:07 pm said:
    
    You are most welcome
    
    LikeLike
S Bara on May 31, 2020 at 7:13 pm said:

Nice poem

LikeLiked by 1 person

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- B Gourley on May 31, 2020 at 8:03 pm said:
  
  Thanks
  
  LikeLike
  
  Reply ↓

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