Rhyme Time Iii - Death
Are there robins hopping my frozen ground?
Sound of widowers voices all around.
Chilled to the bone, I make nary a sound.
My suit and tie are not keeping me warm.
Icy northern winds blowing in a storm,
I'm not feeling myself, out of the norm.
I feel my eyelids, the icicles form.
In the distance I hear taps being played.
Silent sobs emitted, my nerves are frayed.
Even in knee deep snow they knelt and prayed.
But there's nobody home, I am afraid.
I am not here, only my thoughts remain.
Taps is finished, such a solemn refrain.
Maybe it's me, am I going insane?
One mirror glance and I'd suffer disdain.
Someone has stolen my salt-pepper locks.
Moths have digested my Christmas wool socks.
Someday I will think outside of this box.
Wake me up if opportunity knocks.
Are there robins hopping my frozen ground?
Written 12/23/2017
Contest: Rhyme Time III
Host: Laura Loo
Copyright © Rhoda Tripp | Year Posted 2017
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