Third RibA Poem by JRShe says, you have a light touch and I guess she’s right, maybe too light I always admire the feel to a feather opposed to the rough of a stone; She says, you always whisper, never speak and of course she’s right, but the last time I let my voice rise to a rumble it shook all my walls down, sheetrock can crumble to a thin white powder through the shout of my words as trumpets outside Jericho; She says, you need to be alone and she’s right, she’s right I need to rid myself of my third rib the bone of contention; She says, you always write but I am alone, as noted shedding myself of bones and the only way to get them out is to describe them © 2020 JR |
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Added on March 3, 2020 Last Updated on March 3, 2020 AuthorJRPlacerville, CAAboutWriting again Interesting times to be living in, kind of a cool time to be a writer and documenting the world. more..Writing
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