Climatic cold cuts through the thin layer of my skin
So that sickness dogs me.
Infection bruises my inner parts.
Exhaustion limits my days to essentials,
Bounded by my body’s demands for rest.
Fevers fetter my nights in
Drugged jails of decongestants
And dawns seem devoid of hope.
Sadly, this Thanksgiving there will be many without homes to share
it in or food to place upon tables that no longer exist. Pray the
weather holds and they stay warm in the few unheated houses that
still stand after the ravaging on the shores of the Northeast
and pray harder for those who lost loved ones , especially small
children in this most vicious storm--one so many underestimated
and paid for with their lives.
Posted by Micki Peluso 22.11.12
We burn with positive rhythms
Laid to our bones in better times.
Our closed and sleepful eyes vision
Ambitions that defy our momentary pain
To pulsate within our brains
Investments of identity that will not pass away.
Physical frailties put aspirations beyond our reach but,
Subject to our survival, not forever.
Loving spirits raise the Godhead in each of us
To kill with persistant hopefulness,
The demons that oppress.
Me,elderly and weak, you, young and resilient,
We will turn the tide by sole survival
And claim the prize of our revival.