.
Patient in a Nursing Home
Such a frantic brilliance
in the flagpole’s banging chain!
I’m blind,
__confined,
____but now I know:
Winter’s here again.
.
.
After the Funeral
Her shoes capsized on the floor by the door,
Abandoned clothes make a trail through the place.
The cat, her only remaining companion,
Has gathered together her underwear
And curled up snug in the scent of it there.
She lies alone on her side of the bed,
Breathing her grief at a steadying pace,
His raggedy sweatshirt pressed to her face.
.
.
Daniel Pugh MD, born in 1938, was an enthusiastic amateur folk-singer in the 50s and 60s, and is now retired from 50 years of practicing psychiatry.
Amazing snapshots.
The second poem could be a painting.
Two beautifully heartfelt poems. Thank you.
The second poem has so much in it; not so much in what it says but what it doesn’t have to say.
An economy of thought and word. Thank you – I would like to see more
P S – Lovely photo, chosen by Evan. How does he do it>.