Poetry Blogs (condolences)
My uncle, Gaston,
mum's bro (1-yr apart),
died whilst I cradled him
in the crook of me arms.
He lay there bliss-filled
Faint lustre of his boyhood charms.
It was a waiting game
& he was hanging on.
He held back the Ripper's blade
Unmindful that he'd had it made.
Friday 8th February 2013 1:00 am