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You Are Sitting
by Kitty NessYou are sitting,
picking at a twig,
big brown peaches around
you.
The hat you wear,
hair curling to the sides,
hides the fever that you
bring.
Sickness lays out
doubts of eternity and
handed-down ideals, you explained to
me.
Compelled by instinct to
succeed, this uncured ending
bends suddenly and stops unexpectedly.
The.
Vulnerable, bared,
scared to look up-
but wondering thoughts of
stars.
I would give up the rest of my own life
if it would only keep you warm. 05/14/2003 Posted on 05/15/2003
Copyright © 2025 Kitty Ness
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by David R Spellman on 05/16/03 at 02:40 AM I think there's some great, tender feeling in this and I think its great how the last word in each stanza speaks a message all to itself. Very innovative. Well done. |
| Posted by Richard D Frederick on 05/16/03 at 05:35 AM perhaps it does need to be refined more, but you do have something here, keep at it! |
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