My Boy – Poem by Lawrence Witt

Poetry by Lawrence Witt

The dog runs in
all teeth, a stick

his world is

what his mouth

the taste of things
held close
up to the eye

so sure what each
is, isn’t worth it.

Hasn’t got the faintest
at a hand for poker.

Doesn’t know
he found it
where we’ll spade
the lilacs in.

About the Poet

Lawrence is an English teacher in training, from Canterbury in the UK, with a degree in English Literature and Creative Writing. He has been writing poetry with varying degrees of intensity for the past eight years, and is now beginning to seek publication.

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