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Withering Cedars, Georgia, United States
My name is Tim Morris. I currently dwell in Northwest Georgia on my estate, Withering Cedars, nestled at the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, with my lovely wife and two beautiful daughters, where I teach high school American literature. I have been writing poetry for the majority of my life. I write about what I see around me. When asked, I describe my style as "realist romantic surrealism". The environment, sex, jazz, religion, politics, family, etc., are the subjects on which I tend to focus. When I am not writing, I play the banjo, didgeridoo, or drums or wander aimlessly shooting odd objects with my camera.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

"maybe he wasn't even there..."

but i think
he was…

wooden man
in the kudzu

left to rot
in the rain

silly

him standing
like that

leaves
choking what
would be breath

i admire

his dexterity…

his absurd serenity…

his inability
to cry…

tears kissing
my lips…

the rain…

falling like shrapnel…

the wounded
not yet conscious

to the roots

loosening their grip

on the soil…

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