Curfew
by Geoff White
-for Tim, Ryan, Garrett, and Joe
Why do we keep looking at the door
like they’ll come home the next minute, late
by a few months? When did we stop?
There was more than one accident, even in this
small town. The one-man tailgate,
the T-bone, the beloved car, curfew breaking
under the weight of what rolled over them.
I’m getting them confused. Did any
transplant their lives, laying on silver tables,
the riches within given away? When did their sister’s
smile come back from twisting into a
howl of unanswered questions? When did
God make himself God and say I could be up
all night but wouldn’t let them
stay out one minute past?
BIO
Geoff White is a husband, father, poet, and dog owner from Lexington, KY. His poetry is an exercise in his sanity. He is introverted, so it is hard for him to reach out and interact with the poetry community as a whole. The words have nowhere else to go but on the page. He has been published by Recently Eclipsed, A Long Story Short, and the Atlantic Pacific Press.
