Sweet and Sour Pickles
There was a time when
pleasure came on the tip of a tongue.
When fear fled and the senses
did indulge.
Though visions dim and
sound distorts, dismays…
the tang of sweet and sour stay
abides within the aged form
in figureless grace.
Released are we aged crones and cronies
no longer the baited traps, the pollen
for the laden prongs
of progeny.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012
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