The Old Gray Mare (Just Ain’t What She Used to Be)

The apple tree is near dead but she won’t let him cut it.

Her breasts hang like empty pillow cases on the clothesline.

His penis is a flightless bird in a nest of tangled gray hair.

Even the old house sags like the back of an old horse

And there are no more apples to feed it.

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About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
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5 Responses to The Old Gray Mare (Just Ain’t What She Used to Be)

  1. I didn’t notice you looking in my backyard! Shoulda waved! Toni

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