My heart hurts for the lovely, sweet pachyderm
that were there for me all my seventy-three years.
Will I die first or will they?
Tell me
For I cannot imagine the horror of their passing
Why does man destroy things of wonder and beauty?
How have empty souls come so much among us?
It makes the thought of my grave less fearful.
Published by
asburysherry
My whole life has been a dance with poetry. I rhymed before I could write. Now in the autumn of my life, I still go full-bore. I use my life experiences and several subjects dear to my heart...and just plain old poetry. I admit, I avoid forms...don't know most of them and don't care. I write from my heart. I am disabled due in part to my husband's violent abuse for years. I write from my hospital bed here at home, where I share it with two rescue cats. Chico and Sissy. I have a wonderful caregiver, Carol, who does most everything, including trying to keep,me on an even keel. I have been widely published and even write for our local homeless newspaper, street roots. I have a blog at OldPoetWrites.blogspot.com. Come visit me.
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