by Bobbie Troy
hopelessness and resignation
hung in the air
the smell of rotting flesh
hit me
before I opened the door
on the final tableau:
a corpse of loneliness
naked on the bed
as withered as
an Auschwitz prisoner
as spent as a deflated balloon
a neglected widower
in a silent, empty room
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wow. Such rich word pictures--emotions running deep.
ReplyDeletebeautiful
ReplyDeletenice,like it.we can do much, we have the highway call box, emergency phone station and emergency roadside telephone.
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