The Goat

Smiling goat photo by Bugdog

Living in The City amidst young go-getters and creaky old coots.
My wild hair is mostly gray;
I’m carefree as a goat in garbage
There are paths here, but they don’t lead me home.
Emptied of trash, what can the world cling to?
I sit alone on my bar stool all morning long,
While the full moon sinks into the relentless day.

(Inspired by a poem by Hanshan.)

If you dug my poem, “The Goat,” check out my poem, “Going Rogue.”