Poetry: A Day in the Hospital

A piece

of me

dangles

above

newborn

eyes-

Legs jig

arms spin

but that

ball

of intellect

lies

that ball

of rage

cuts

this ball

of love

falls

and

bounces

away.

We are at root causes.

Scent of remembered

sweat:

through cracks

it drips,

Yet now–

…silence…


(c) Rob Goldstein 2015-2020

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