Poem -
DRESSES + GOWNS
Dressing gowns are the worst
things
Aren't they?
The way they wrap around
Embrace you
Comfort you
Shield you like a coat of
armour
A steel weave of fluffy tails
White clouds full of bombs
The friend with a death grip
That pincher like hug
Too heavy to float, or
Move on, or
Get up
The buttons... a warning...
Inhospitable to life
Don't come any closer
That warm pocket... holds
A knife
It is deaf to the knocking
Will not greet the warm sun
At nine of a morning
You know already, day's run...
Away
M P 11/4/21
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Comments
Hey MARION!!....your golden pen is ever-a-pleasure......even when threateningly mired down in the day's precognitions!!.......ALL STARS!!......well penned dear poet sister!!.......LOVE & ROCKETS!!.......,T xo : )
Lol...thanks Tony. How to make heavy read light eh?? I'll keep trying!!
hugs 💞
A clever write, Marion. It spoke to me of wanting more but unable. That dressing gown is safe and yet a barrier ⚘x
The dressing gown is my new uniform lol. I've barely worn anything else since December...shocking!!
I'm not sure how to get back to normal..or even what normal.is!! Killing the days is more important than living them now. Pathetic really. Thanks love Xx
Not at all pathetic! It is totally understandable. Totally. I get it. I do! This is going to take you a long time to find any sort of new normal. It will take as long as it takes. Just hang in in there and write and write and write. Sending you lots of hugs 🤗🤗 x
Sending a whole universe back 🤗🤗🤗