Daily Poem — Chilled Fingers

Chilled Fingers

Slipped on and slung over the draped silken hiding place

Withered in bleeding dread

Willow weeping in crazed trunk twisted parade

To old to remember planting; a grandma diary entry

A pleasure seeker gift at twenty

An admirer’s gaze strokes hair and figure

To break a question or ask for another

Alone in windy chasm the bereft parents prison

Stored in suitcase for moving on after

The show is over, the intimacy dead

No need to follow a barren land for inspiration

Spoken word an arrow repeated and broken

Shaft driven to heart of problem

Sawn off and not dealt with

Smiling always to pretend violet attitude

A soft embrace a cold heart

A grimace

February 22nd 2015

Patrick Turner-Lee Copyright 2015

5 Replies to “Daily Poem — Chilled Fingers”

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