
My Father's Wedding Rings
The gold band you had worn
since those smiles snapped in
black and white,
slipped from a finger whittled
to the bone with age and illness,
to reveal another ring
of unblemished skin, white
as thrown rice. Its carat worth
incalculable.
Stephen Bone
.
If you have any thoughts about this poem, Stephen Bone would be
pleased to hear them