The Flung Man

I can no longer find the abandoned
house from whose fence corner
terraced above I-70, I watched the flung man
dug out of an embankment
in a kneeling prayer circle of firefighters.
I watched, myself encircled by
a small gathering of nameless neighbors
at sundown but also alone
because my own son would not follow,
afraid to miss dinner. I introduced myself
to strangers. The house, one said,
was abandoned, eight years, so no need
to worry about trespassing; the man down there
I already knew, was me.

Need more readings? Consider these fantastic monologues, essays, and poetry readings from the MockingOwl Roost family.

• Letting Go – Poetry Reading
• Fluff of Delight – Monologue
• My Magic – Audio Essay
• The Way Cats Wake Up to a Passion of Birds – Poetry Reading
• Glass Shell – Poetry Reading

Cameron Morse

+ posts

This author does not have any more posts.