James H Duncan

Peanut Shells
 

my heart sags, hangs from the ribs
slumped like Charlie Brown
against his stone wall as
the autumn of our discontent falls
beneath our feet, fat fiery maple leaves
yellow, red, and dead
 
Lucy, I always knew you’d leave nothing
behind but one-sided love when
you offered your hand
to hold in the frail September rain
 
and I’m not the only one
slumped here along a wall that goes
forever, and though we know we’ll somehow fail,
Halloween is on the way, a time to reshape
our wavering footsteps,
a time to shrug off the ghost   
 
so I tell my friends as I chamber another blood
red sunset and aim for the heart—
 
leave your blanket behind; it is always
Sunday where we’re going




For more of James H Duncan's work, visit http://jameshduncan.blogspot.com.
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The views and opinions expressed throughout belong to the individual artists and may or may not coincide with those of the other artists (or editors) represented within the magazine. Hobo Camp Review supports a free-for-all atmosphere of artistic expression, so enjoy the poetry, fiction, opinions, and artwork within, read with an open mind, and comment wisely. Thanks for stopping by the Camp!