Thump! Poem by Eric Cockrell
Thump!
old bodies...
become small at night,
shaken with solitude,
swallowed up by the womb.
hands that built fires,
gnarled, clench and unclench.
the old clay pot
filled with silent dirt.
coats hung on the hook,
boots that dont travel.
telephone lines cut,
the ink fades on the page.
thump! thump! thump!
old hearts still pound.
and the darkness is sticky
with the memory of fire!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/2/2024 8:16:04 AM # 1.0.0.1119
AT night when I am restless without sleep I often think to much without thinking, really good stuff Mr. Cockrell this old body is still young at heart