Sad Day


Sad Day

The cat was dead.

The dog was shot.

I took a long time

walking nowhere that day.

Hands in my pockets,

hoodie over my bald plate.

Light snow—tried

to cut through the prelude.

The pets were gone…again,

I was alone.

To bury or burn my


Final steps

did nothing but leave me


I teared.

Chewed on a fingernail,

took off my coat

and told anyone who

was listening---

I was never god.

Dan Provost

Dan Provost's poetry has been published throughout the small press for a number of years.  Some recent publications include: Poetical Review, Merak Magazine, Oddball Magazine, Deuce Coupe, Misfit Magazine, the Rye Whiskey Review and the Dope Fiend Daily.  He has two books coming out in 2020.  Under the Influence of Nothingness by Kung Fu Treachery Press and Rattle of a Realizer, published by Whiskey City Press.  He lives in Berlin, New Hampshire with his wife Laura and dog Bella.

Post a Comment

Previous Post Next Post