Friday, November 18, 2016

Robert Verdon, #361, grace

long small hours pass in slumber
slow arrows of shadow fly to their mark
that morning
we went riding in the late Spring heat

came across a woman on the footpath
maybe a decade older than us
resting on the seat of a walking frame,
no hat

excuse me, how do you get in?

to go up to her room on the first floor,
searching the single-storey houses for the entrance
to the nursing home,
not far behind her

kicked in the stomach,
I held our bikes as
Kate pushed her home


  1. one of those unexpected experience, just round the corner from where I live

  2. What a fine poem that is, knocking on heaven's door.

  3. comes from living near a nursing home!


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