#156 (the physician)

a crunching sound

too close to home

on rotting ground

a pale, old dome

once held the mind

of one, now lost

whose feelings, thoughts

had turned to dust


a physician once said to me

there was no loss of energy

So dark-red zinnias

growing out

the shallow grave

might have been doubts

to flee a fate

already doomed

in moss and grass

his fears now loom


no stone unturned

no cash unburned

still gazing into

pools of clay

the thread is thin

yet still he tries

to capture secrets

deep within

below the brim

of knowledge’s keep

the soil holds all

forever deep


23rd June 2017

 

 

 

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