Friday 6 May 2016

Broken Limbs

Who wants to break a leg?
Broken limbs stop us literally in our tracks
But much as we don't want them
They insist on a kind of forced meditation....
and bestow, hopefully, insights

These two poems came out of a broken elbow a good while back...



A broken arm's length
holds you fast

while its iron fist
cups a soft breast
and holds me to ransom.

Is there no way Diomedes
that you can breach this rampart of mine?


From this new vantage point of mine
This fixed wall of pain that cannot bend
or yield to the touch

I see, at last, you, bereft
And wonder if I can
with cozening glances

and careful fingerings
restore you to yourself?

Copyright with Cathy Leonard 2016

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