for MH
My nanan
is just a little bird
these days.
She is a birdcage.
She is so small
nobody knows
if she is in bed or not.
She is a pile of sheets.
Her heart breaks.
She has pain
in her stomach.
The bird is trying to fly.
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Showing posts with label nanan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nanan. Show all posts
Sunday, 5 October 2014
LITTLE BIRD
Labels:
age,
ageing,
alzheimers,
death,
disease,
grandma,
illness,
Muriel Hudson,
nanan,
old,
poem,
poetry
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