In honor of national poetry month, I thought I would post a recently penned poem.  –Heather

 

They Haunt Me

 

From where he left them.

Twin handmade crutches,

poorly fixed with dirty bands

at the broken joint.

All I could offer

was a modern, metal pair

I paid too much for

The same ball and chain;

it was

no real gift.

I wonder

How it would be if

He who spit in dust and

wiped it over that

Blindman’s eyes;

Sighed,

Up to heaven

With warm fingers in the ear holes

of the deaf,

Had answered the door.

Oh to shed this

wrinkled

skin

With one leap

Into the heavens!

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