he watches her now
birdlike
on the rack
quivering with pain
dying
last moments crawl by
studded
with sharp thorns
on blooms bleaching white
dying
how will I go on
he asks
the women
(mother, sisters, friend)
dying
she’ll be gone from me
hordes of
nightmare beasts
reminding me she’s
dying
she’s crossing the bar
into
forever
one last kiss before
dying
#
Salvatore Buttaci is the author of 200 Shorts, a collection of short-short stories, published by All Things That Matter Press and available at Amazon.com in book and Kindle editions.
http://tinyurl.com/3o5w84e
Reminiscent of Lorca with all his simple precision. A beautiful poem Sal.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Rich.
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