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Kimberley Linstruth-Beckom Poem
I walked around the grounds
And saw crutch after crutch
Piled together making one
Huge collage of life-like
New beginnings.
On the inside, colored glass
Beamed in the sunshine.
You didn't need
The ugliness of incandescent.
Everything about the place
Shined and gleamed
Like a car freshly washed
And waxed. I stood there,
In awe of its beauty
But I began to wonder,
Am I good enough
To set foot in here?
I am just an imperfect woman.
I am nothing like
The perfect beauty
Surrounding me now.
Does He know I'm here?
Should I have knocked first?
Would He want me here,
Basking in all of this beauty?
I hope He shows up.
Does He come here on
Days that don't start with S?
The chatter filled my head,
I left confused, ashamed,
Imperfect, and unworthy.
I finally found the ugly concrete
Of the outside.
I started to walk in a daze
Of thought and simplicity.
Left foot, right foot,
Left foot, right foot.
I looked up and there it was!
Big, sturdy, and quite old.
The leaves as bright
As they could be.
I ran to it like a school girl.
I stood underneath its bigness
And I looked up.
He's here.
I know He is,
I can feel Him.
I think I can hear
Him too!
He's saying that I don't need
An invitation.
Copyright © Kimberley Linstruth-Beckom | Year Posted 2008
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Details |
Kimberley Linstruth-Beckom Poem
His tongue slurps over the hair.
He grinds his teeth in sometimes
While kneading and purring.
The hair is everywhere now.
A clump rests over his eye.
I pick it off
As he looks at me
With strange olive eyes.
He lays down yet once more,
Done for the day.
Nothing to think of,
No bills to pay,
No deadlines to meet.
By habit, he decides
When to sleep
And when to eat.
Those eyes look at me again.
How strange we humans must
Look to him.
We rush, we work, and never play.
We eat and sleep when
Our jobs permit...
Never done for the day.
We have one life to get it right,
And yet, he has nine.
He came to me with his toy.
He wants to play...
I think I'll cancel that appointment.
Copyright © Kimberley Linstruth-Beckom | Year Posted 2008
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Details |
Kimberley Linstruth-Beckom Poem
Some people use it to get from
One place to another.
Others live day and night on it.
Some are discovered on it,
While others die on it.
But now matter what,
A sidewalk is just that.
No one seems to pay attention
To those cracks and crevices
On that white concrete.
They can't.
Their lives are too full,
Too much worry,
Too many bills to pay,
Too many aches and pains,
Breakfast to make,
Lunches to make,
Dinner to make,
Cleaning, dusting, filing, taxes,
And did I mention bills to pay?
They jog or sprint through the day
Instead of stroll.
People learn to dart on the
Meaningless sidewalk.
The walk that takes them from
One part of life to another.
Copyright © Kimberley Linstruth-Beckom | Year Posted 2008
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