I don’t know if the poem posted below has any literary merit, but I am teaching Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman to two of my high school classes and have been thinking about Willy Loman. If you’re familiar with Miller’s play, you’ll understand this poem. If you haven’t, you should.
In a Boston Diner
behind the steam
from his cup,
into the booth,
from his shoulders
like a shroud.
If you have time, take a look at this – I Had Lunch with Willy Loman.
Inspired by a WordPress Daily Prompt.