Gentle Egg
Gentle Egg
She candled an egg in her soft hands
protecting the fragile,
inspecting with light;
Cusping
Like either horn
Of a crescent moon
When floated aloft on two
dexterous
fingers.
Was she not peering into the future?
Making a determination perhaps
Even listening,
Searching for signs
of life?
or something more mundane ---
Broken vessels
Spots of blood
promising rot ...
Yolkers
like me...
Copyright © R. H. White | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment