.
Lying coiled on a table like a sleeping cat,
A spinal column.
Wired to perfection, each part in order,
Waiting
For nimble fingers to rouse it.
Abrasive, these desiccated old bones as they slide over each other,
Lacking the tissue between
That would protect.
.
A contest entry
- Intricate Simplicities by Asabouros..
600 points, ended December 4, 2008, 5 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
An interesting write... really
You speak of the spine which so many lack... and lay it out for observation... perhaps a metaphor for a lack of foundation... perhaps simply a medical artifact. You provoke thought which is the higest praise for a poet... Nicely done.
Ken
Adding your comment:
