Resting
my leg I have shaken off the sock, Propped the bandage in the sun. I am solemn as a relic. Crimean? World War
One? But the window hardens silver, Hotter than coffee’s foam. It is the island beyond pain, It is my coming home.
Alison Brackenbury |
If you have any comments on this poem, Alison Brackenbury would be
pleased to hear them.