Friday, August 28, 2009

My Poetry - Punctured and Porous, I Become

As I mentioned in yesterday's blog I've been working on some poetry as a source of catharsis during this difficult family time, and I wanted to post one of my poems today.

Thanks for the encouragement T. Anne!


Punctured and Porous, I Become

Death punctured a hole in my soul, not the first and not the last, and bequeathed as its gift a perpetual emptiness.

The longer I live, the more punctured and porous I become, growing ever more so with each loss.

I stand poised and proper, as dictated, yet left with little more than an aging shell and a fragmented spirit.

Elusive power - Change this life-death cycle! But alas that power belongs to mythic gods, of which I am not - I am only
skin, and bones, and fingernails, and hair.

Death must live, and life must die.

This is our legacy.

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