I Shrink

I Shrink

Another soul begs flight,
readies itself,
baggage packed, and now it waits.
A silent traveller dressed
in Sunday best and polished shoes,
gloveless hands exposed.

How impatient it is
to leave and riddle my heart
with more holes.
I am the broad side of a barn,
peppered with buckshot; I am

target practise, and I leak
emotion like a sieve.
I shrink,
and my heart
grows smaller from it.
.
.
.
.

The line “gloveless hands exposed” is borrowed and credit to “Beyond the Love of Fishing” by Linda Evans Hofke

Written for Poetic Bloomings prompt #96
http://poeticbloomings.com/2013/02/24/with-a-little-help-from-our-friends-prompt-96/
Written as my mother-in-law spends her final days in hospice care.
© 24 Feb 2013

Misky © 24 Feb 2013

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7 thoughts on “I Shrink

  1. so lovely and emotional. this poem wrapped in melancholy. i can
    see the passenger dressed in sunday best with gloveless hands,
    to me speaks of vulnerability.

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