Poetry: love song

Poetry: love song

Words: Ed East
Image: Eric Yahnker

when one day my cheeks sag by my jowls

and thin whisps of hair frame my pitted brow

and time has gnarled my fingers to the bone

in polyester trousers and scuffed brogues

I will fiddle with my broken zipfly

and nervously thumb through tv weekly

in the waiting room as I wait for my

results from the internal biopsy

and dearly too I hope that you will be

the small old woman in a raincoat

with a thin blue rinse perm and bunioned feet

fussing over me from the next seat

with opera singing running through our heads

I will fold a crimped watery eyed smile

when you scold me for using bad language

as unseen we approach the final mile

 

Read more of Ed’s poems in his ‘I am a Metaphor’ collection for Kindle, purchase here.

 

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