SURGERY A poem about a dear friend who was a therapist. She had surgery which affected her larynx.

The voice became voiceless
at the turn of the surgeon’s knife.
The house was filled with quietness
The canker sore of the woman’s throat
left the family filled with strife.
Fun no more; they doted upon her.

She gave too much; now must be fed.
Confined to her house
to learn to receive instead.
On the eve of winter,
the woman now dimished.

To be or not without her speech
live her life; listen to Bach.
His ear upon the heavans.
A trial life, spiritual number seven.
She gave too much, now must be fed.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s