OUT OF FOCUS

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I am sorry WoLers this poem is so unseasonal - it was prompted by seeing so many rough sleepers in doorways and under arches when on a shopping trip in winter.

 

Fear screams

through a fragile mind

while those who pass

are deaf and blind

to the world

beyond their focus.

 

Commuters hurry

and heels tip tap

as snow's first flurry

covers the back

of the doorway's

destitute sleeper.

 

The bottled spirit

held loose in the hand

that's too cold to respond

to the feeble command

of a wreck of a man

who cannot fall any deeper.

 

The heart that is chilled

is reluctant to beat

as it struggles on

but cannont compete

with the crippling wind

                           - that shrivels flesh off the bone

◄ WHIP-CRACK AND AWAY

- AND THE BIG BROWN SOFA ►

Comments

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LEON STOLGARD

Tue 2nd Apr 2019 13:53

No apologies needed Dorothy, after all, it is still poetry and great poetry at that!

LS

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