Biography
Health forced me to give up bike riding and woodworking. Fell back to something I have not even thought about for decades: Poetry, reading it and writing it. This is how I maintain my sanity.
Samples
Subway Ride Home She stood silent while is handed the bag Nodding with thanks she turns, heads for the street Her feet are slow, almost needing to drag Outside it is cold, just starting to sleet Walk to the subway a mere thousand feet But for her it is that in hilly miles Her heavy head down, there's no one to greet There are thoughts if there'll be any more smiles Steps she climbs to the platform are painful The rail she holds tight, the bag much tighter Now feels like she's carrying an anvil Knowing that the bag will not get lighter The train has the force of a nor'easter She clutches the bag like it were a child Hoping the door will be in front of her Inside a safe feeling but not beguiled Gently places the bag upon the seat The train will now carry it to its home Closing her heavy eyes, again they meet With tears like tropic rain, she says "Shalom" Nothing special about the bag itself What is inside was most of her life Container once home to be on a shelf For sixty two years she was his wife
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Blog entries by Bob Sieczkiewicz
Wasteland (20/06/2018)
Blog link: https://www.writeoutloud.net/blogs/bobsieczkiewicz
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