Cop Or An Archeologist

Sometimes I leave the house
to scatter myself deep within
the bowels of some unsavory street
hoping I'll never return.

In another lifetime,
I knew something about love
but everything now is just retreat.

The days of soft sunlight
on garden roses
have grown extinct.

In ancients woods
I recited poetry and prayers,
I'm certain, I abandoned my soul there.

I've seen lost deer
wandering in the city,
this is how misplaced
a man can feel.

If ever questioned
by a cop or archeologist
as a material witness
if you've ever seen me,
I'm confident you haven't.

by Uriah Hamilton

Comments (1)

Woah creative and soulful in s very artsy poetic way and I admiee the unique way u have written it. The deer libe is esp awesome and imaginative. Kudos. I think I have read u before. I hope u review my latest poem too.