The camera, to his eye,
Was a creator of enlightenment.
A long black Cadillac.
The front doors:
Breath.
Tag: Cadillac
May Poem 8
Barnes stepped up to the podium lot.
The camera, to his eye,
Is a creator of enlightenment.
It was a long black
Cadillac.
The front doors:
Breath.
The influx of new
Parishioners nest slid his car.
He had not noticed the sound
Of life is not the end
And held his breath to ease the end goal:
Creation.
therichardbraxton 