SHELLING PEAS
a smile
struggles around in his beard
then gets lost again
the doctor spoke like a stone
dropped into a pool
talking in bigggger & biggggger circles
Death politely
knocks at his door
as if it were Beethoven's 5th
'Are you always as
dramatic as this..? '
Death just smirks
he felt like
an answer being
chased by a question
he remembers his wife
shelling peas into her lap
a glimpse of white knickers
at last he
found what he was
looking for...his death
he steps into
the blue that
a window offers
the clock
embarrassed by
its own ticking
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem