That Terrible Rasping Sound

One grows used to sundry annoyances:  gas-
Powered leaf blowers, mufflerless cars,
People at work who believe, without reason,
That one cares at all about with whom they
Live.  One must, in the end, become callous,
A duck, letting all of these affronts roll off
Of one's back, and I have.  I'm a mallard.  
I paddle past everything, almost, but there
Is one toxin my feathers can't block:  
My grand-daughter crying all night.





Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 30 times
Written on 2022-06-18 at 03:35

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Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
That would penetrate my heart so deeply. Above all things, seeing pain or anguish in loved ones, stirs my emotions and I feel a huge energy of wanting to give that person love and comfort.
It is no wonder you were inspired to write this fine piece, Lawrence.
Allen
2022-06-18