Forgot what poverty was

Could it be that late in life

There is no money tree

Savings evaporate as hand sanitizer dries

No one to hold

As the world is on the barbecue spit of disease

Not a new moment

Hunger, paying the rent often the

Beginning of a relationship

You made my shirts, cut my hair

Now back in your barber chair

As your fingers find the part in my hair

Warm hands patted my hair

Almost massaging a very old white scalp

Oh, yes the memory of pleasure

Reverberates throughout

Your kind soft hands

Remind me of when we had everything!

Frank X Cameron 4/19/2020


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