My shoulders are blades of flesh,
they hold my skinny arms
to hands that hold this pen
across this page as it reaches
the end of a long lived life
that was meant to bend fold
and remend.
But these feet have already
left; I can feel it in my chest.
These lips want to smile the
day away; I have nothing
else to say.
Knees to my chin, how long
has that been? To crouch, cuddle
what is now so thin. Press and
pull, it all fits in.
The warmth and the cool. These
toes are not mine, they belong to
the sublime. Up my pants you
will find my legs spindly; a jelly
belly that shakes in my tummy.
My thin arms hold loops of skin.
They are far away and my head needs
covering; but the sun warms my neck
and my face is full of laughter because
God has reached out his hand to me.
Categories:
remend, death, faith, introspection, loss
Form: Prose Poetry