Forgotten

May death not find you
among the forgotten.

The floors you scrubbed,
the laundry washed.

Depression-time men
passed by for work.

You are older now
and frail among
those lined up
in wheelchairs
for the dose
to keep them
docile.

Dig out
the potato root
formed in that
famished land.

May death not find you
among the forgotten.

Poem by Tom Simard
Sketches by John Spiers

For this poem, I chose three sketches: an ironing board (toil supporting a family), a bowl of potatoes and cut work napkins (nourishment for body and spirit), and a cleaned plate (generosity towards the needy). The drawings as a series diminish in value contrast, depth, and details, like fading memories.

To read more of Tom’s creative work, please visit Tom’s WordPress blog.

Fleeing Death

Fleeing death
that hung
like dreary
drapes,
the streets
were alive
with a cold
that penetrated
the soul
you still possessed.

Poem by Tom Simard
Sketch by John Spiers

This sketch was done in a city parking lot where homeless people once gathered around oil drum fires for warmth in winter. With downtown renewal projects, you won’t see that now. The office buildings still seem to hang like dreary drapes, and somewhere the homeless still hang on to life.

To read more of Tom’s creative work, please visit Tom’s WordPress blog.

Stone Deaf

Like a
stone deaf
unbridled mule
unable to hear
the desperate
plea.

Poem by Tom Simard
Sketch by John Spiers

Sometimes short poems are packed with big ideas. This is one of those poems.

To read more of Tom’s creative work, please visit Tom’s WordPress blog. By the way, this poem is from a published collection of his poems titled “Watercolors.” To learn more, please visit “Watercolors”.