Friends of John Guzzey


Poetry for you, prose for someone else:

Poetry by Mark J. Staub

Souvenirs spill

From the


Yellow envelope

Its brightness

Contrasted against

The black shirt mourning

The feebleness of a friend

The sun spills a square or two of light onto

The fenced gravel road

Cell bars cast by shadows

Cage his friend in steel

A one man prison

As whip-thin branches flaunt buds

Freshly emergent and tall, pushing against the early spring wind

A smile faces downward

Away from this new life to

A friend sitting in his chair

In the mud

Ablaze with the past

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