After the bell rang,
The long walk in the
Cloister; the flowers
By the wall; the bright
Sunlight making dark
Patterns on the grass;
The birdsong nearby;
Old Sister Bridget
Hobbles to chapel,
Her thin stick clicking
To the bumpity
Beat of her frail heart,
And somewhere far off
A womb tears apart.
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Comments: 8
Rose's Latest Poems and Articles
Rose's Latest photos Thanks for sharing!
that is incredibly vivid, and makes me wonder where I misunderstood the metaphor...
This is gorgeous, but the last two lines blew me away. (A clue, please? I'm new to your work!)
Blessings ~
Rene