Earl was a weird guy, he never did fit in. He was a fish out of water as far as life was concerned. He learned what he needed to succeed, but indeed he was on his own. It was the way he lived. It was the way that he died. Flopping around on the grass like a trout, he went out hook, line and sinker. Death lured him home.
On the grass, Earl left
leaving his family bereft,
fodder for the worms.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
Written for MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 27 – Alt
Shorpy Images
THROUGH THE EYES OF A POET'S HEART 
Clever one, Walt.