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.

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