Wednesday, August 24, 2011
I'm the Ship
Fingers gnarled, hands deformed,
Genetics and time I did not choose…
Spurs on bones, and plastic veins,
All ailments I’ll never lose.
When Otis dies and leaves me,
Alone , and miserably free…
I want to go to Hawaii and Tahiti,
On a cruise, by myself, on the sea.
Escaping the Washington winters,
To nap once under bent palm trees…
I’ll hope I learned Otis’ lesson well,
To leave paradise with his canine ease.