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:
Very profound. You do such an insightful job with words and life.
arrow though my heart.
Oh, my! This is beautiful and powerful!!
Beautiful words. Beautiful imagery. Simply beautiful poetry.
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