6.17.2010

Time Unknown

I saw a man old or young in tattered clothes
Tattered pants layered upon layers
Muttering and grunting breathing
He dragged his lame foot
and a broken wheelchair
I thought: He once was
a baby soft cheeks
loved and cooed
My boy
I
hope
you won't
turn into him
Your cute mutterings
about elevators and firetrucks
turning into scary guttural mutterings
Your jet hair I love tangled and tattered
soft cheeks and unbridged nose covered
pushing a broken whatever thinking or not
sirens ambulance hospital doors that shut

you in.
or out.

4 comments:

Sarah (GenMom) said...

Very profound. You do such an insightful job with words and life.

Mzzterry said...

arrow though my heart.

Margie said...

Oh, my! This is beautiful and powerful!!

Kass said...

Beautiful words. Beautiful imagery. Simply beautiful poetry.