SKID ROW

Amidst life is death

as in my workshop,

just above the window

a bier for moths, trapped

and drained by the invisible lord of webs.

 

In fact there are two when I think of it

which sometimes I do,

and leave them  as proof of

the scaling down of needs and purpose.

The window plays tricks there,

 

shows them in a beauty parade

a haunting disturbance of light and shade.

For myself, being of proper flesh and blood

there will be no collision like that,

no matrimony of nature's closure,

 

and while I may haunt myself with machines

utilize these cramps and pincers

suspended from walls,

it will be for a greater reason:

that we serve the God of trappings

before final curtains that we never

knew would be drawn before it was too late.

◄ SURROUNDED

THE DISTANCE OF AGE ►

Comments

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raypool

Sun 24th Mar 2019 17:19

Jennifer,thanks for going back to find this. Like a transfusion of life to older works. That verse is a bit macabre I suppose!

Ray

jennifer Malden

Sat 23rd Mar 2019 19:43

Again (as usual!) beautiful! Especially liked the first verse.

Jennifer

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raypool

Sat 2nd Mar 2019 21:56

Thanks for all your readers and likers, Graham, Des, Anya, Kate, Heart of Lead and Dorothy.

Especially welcomed Kate, cheered me up no end!



Ray

Kate G

Fri 1st Mar 2019 13:09

Now that's poetry Ray. A beautiful end to a Friday for me.

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