Your ocre tones capture my vision
Beneath the hedgerow
Beside the business grey road
Which snarls past your
Gnarled grimace
Teeth exhibit
Your last pain-filled scream
Dried scarlet bloodied browned and leathered
Loiters on your titanium cheeks
Which once bounded joyous
With family
Through cornfields
And the maggots
Those maggots
Filthy maggots
Writhing remorselessly
The only life left
Fighting position
Falling pointless
One day they shall fly
All thanks to you
Even death is teeming with life as maggots. And so will it be with us too when we some day go down under as food for worms. Good poem and welcome to my page
Evocative indeed, a beautiful lyrical and fantastically descriptive write with a superb deft finish in the last short stanza. You should submit this for publication at your writers and poets group.
Evocative. I heard a fox cry in a movie...it had been distracted from eating dead bodies. Then, next day, read that the cry can be mistaken for a human crying in distress. And I thought of all those dead foxes I saw, run over on the road just out of Nyngan, NSW, Australia, on the road to Broken Hill.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
... superb choice of words.... and the way you described was great...