Today's poem is by Rodger Moody

Sevenling (A welder, toothless)
       

A welder, toothless men wearing goggles
work hand-held grinders beside his tired shack,
the night darkening like the line foreman.

Outside, the Milky Way full of twinkling
energy, his father's brother wants to know
if anyone bothers him, the company showers cold, dirty.

He drives the back road home with the radio off.

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Copyright © 2024 Rodger Moody All rights reserved
from Three Chapbooks / Three Poets
Flowstone Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission