Thursday, November 22, 2007

epicedium

A blood red rose
mere token of affection
mocks me 
from a silver vase
encompassing the stem.

Blindly, 
 it stretches towards light
from a bare bulb on a cluttered desk.


Blood flows
minute drops
on silky soft petals.
Bleeding fingers-
damn hemophiliac.

Will you put on a tourniquet
before my life ebbs out?



December 1982-November 2007.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

stop being anxious by praying about everything that makes you anxious. We worry because we're afraid to face the inevitable. And we can't control it. So what if the inevitable comes' face the giant with the sling shot of hope. Be strong and of good courage.

Hope that is not differed

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