Ghost of a ring

by Brad Bedingfield - Not entered

It should be smooth, unblemished, newly remade
Exulting in the air like a prisoner released
But the years have eroded into a gulley
Water stripped it to the corrugated rock
A chasm across which Abraham cannot reach
A firebreak, to keep the damage from spreading,
Flaming again.
And what should be freshly tactile,
Supersensitive,
Feels a prosthetic
Grafted on
Dead as cold metal.

Reason for writing:

    None given    

Birth sign: Not entered
Date created: 1997-06-11 08:38:25
Last updated: 2021-03-03 14:39:32
Poem ID: 47416

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