Bob

I wake up this morning, so missing him. As he would say, I forget to find this, say this, declare how it feels, amid the dead end streets of silent brothers. Those every day calls, conversations, repetitions, oh how i’d love to talk Trump with him. He was my best friend, the one who knew me more than anyone, linked back to my past my mother, father, John Moss, through Pam. He spanned this time.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s