THE MORNING of MY DEATH by Jim Zola
Poem previously published in WINK: Writers IN the Know issue 2
The Morning of My Death For it most certainly will be morning, someone forgets to shut the front door. The dog wanders out and away and is forgotten, adopted by a family with eight children– one more mouth doesn’t matter. The door comes unhinged. How many times did I take a hammer and whack the damn thing back into place? The house too is falling apart. Somewhere in the confusion is a list of things that need doing. I told you I was going out to get the paper. I forgot to shut the door. —Jim Zola
Bio: Jim Zola has worked in a warehouse, as a security guard, in a bookstore, as a teacher for Deaf children, as a toy designer for Fisher Price, and currently as a children’s librarian. His poetry and photo art have appeared in many journals through the years. Publications include a chapbook — The One Hundred Bones of Weather (Blue Pitcher Press) — and a full length poetry collection — What Glorious Possibilities (Aldrich Press). His newest manuscript is titled Monday After the End of the World. He currently lives in Greensboro, NC.
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I enjoyed reading this poem! Thank you for sharing.