It's Still Life

A Pocketful

I am from damp forests
with moss hanging like men’s
grey beards from branches.

Orange huckleberries
Wild blueberries
June’s strawberries, sunburnt red.

There was no pizza,
tomato sauce was ketchup,
and pockets always deep.

And you needed
an operator
to connect to another phone.

My dad collected
buffalo nickels,
and shiny silver dollars …

and my mum
made all of our clothing,
and all of them had deep pockets.

My birthplace is submerged
in mist, and now old broad oaks
smell of wet dog.

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Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Imagery and poems ©Misky 2023.