Categories
Post

For Jane

A poem

A flash of lightning
His life was gone
Hurled up in the air by a car

Ragdoll-like, puppet with no strings

Without knowing, in that second
She was bereft
Rap rap on her door, police
He’s cold an hour now

Cards flowed in, meaningless,
Her love was gone
She was a puppet on a string
Thank you for coming

No sophistry for thishow could she
Plan to be a widow?

Hurled up in the air her life
How does one proceed without her late- no,
Her dead husband

Published in The Lark

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by madswirl.com and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.