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Idle

by Richard Vince

When all that remain are
My bones, how will I look?

The mirror gives no clue:
Try as I might, I cannot
Visualise the skull beneath
My face, joints without
Muscles to move them,
A skeleton held together
By nothing but earth.

It is a mystery I will
Never solve: how can I see
Myself when I have no eyes?

08/07/2021

Posted on 08/24/2021
Copyright © 2021 Richard Vince

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 08/25/21 at 03:26 AM

Excellent!

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