BLOOD LINES
It wasn't the hair, gauze
shirt - three buttons
open exposing a hollow
chest, but his voice -
strong -
creating goose bumps
on my arms, but he
filled my heart.
Who - who was he before
he turned old?
Arms thin -
moccasins worn...
Strength came from his
soul as his soul
cried out -
reaching his nervous
system.
Care? Who cares when it
was yesterday - today he
gave his blood -
He sits, legs thin,
crossed - one moves back
and forth...
A bit weaker
sharing
life.
Eyes stare at a gauze
shirt, beard, worn
moccasins and ignored
worn out purple veins.
Nancy Duci Denofio
copyrighted material
DID YOU EVER WONDER WHAT BROUGHT YOU HERE?
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