To my 83 year old mother who recently had a sholder and a hip implantat.
The sun sears the beaten grass
yellow in the park outside your window.
It is relentless and without discrimination,
but still you will not bend to the coming night
in your bed of hot flowers and drive to go,
you ignore the very frailty of your bones
and the implant that moves like a cold stranger
deep inside your warm tissue.
Poetry by Bob
Read 571 times
Written on 2010-07-11 at 12:09
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The bed
The sun sears the beaten grass
yellow in the park outside your window.
It is relentless and without discrimination,
but still you will not bend to the coming night
in your bed of hot flowers and drive to go,
you ignore the very frailty of your bones
and the implant that moves like a cold stranger
deep inside your warm tissue.
Poetry by Bob
Read 571 times
Written on 2010-07-11 at 12:09
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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Stan Cooper |
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shells |
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 by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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