The damage is slight
nothing much to straighten
people like me this way
love even
Where would I be
without this scratch
and all the newspapers
around me
and the people dressed in black
to drive me to and from
my apartment?
Just another emergency call to the neighbours
no one there to take off my coat
to polish the key my mother gave me
no time to spend crying
in every bathroom I visit
or spend days outside my bedroom
sorting through unopened mail
ha! Good stuff, Claine. :)
ReplyDeleteI am hoping to have time to look at poems on the site and give some feedback. I am snowed under with teaching work at the moment! Thanks so much for your feedback Efi
Deleteno worries, Claine! None at all :) Just keep writing your terrific stuff.
ReplyDeleteLast two lines ...
ReplyDeleteOh Barbara what do you mean when you write 'Last two lines?'
DeleteI was struck by the last two lines, if I recall rightly, because I was struck by the image they provoked ... mail keeps on arriving, regardless. A death can be so devastating that it seems our whole world must know. Last year, my daughter received a letter for her father (who passed away over ten years ago now). It had been forwarded around until it found her.
DeleteThanks for the clarification on the last two lines. For me those lines are about arrogance. This poem is about people who care little for others and enjoy seeing mail from them, but cannot be bothered opening their letters
Delete