I don't do prayers but one can't hurt
look down
behold the kid
below the dirt
hear one more clicker’s press
another casket laid
they’d like to say some words
and when he wakes again it’s dark
in someplace he has never been
where gone are all his hungry teeth
that cut him from his itching bones
I hope he finds the peace he needed there
if life alive had failed to give him rest
but still for years his veiled picture hangs
and two days late his father found the tears
so I will make it warm, when he comes home.
Photo taken near Coonabarrabran NSW of mountains and my highly awesome mango ice cream bar













