Gedicht
Martin Figura
THE BATH
THE BATH
THE BATH
Crow-eyed nurses watch the faint echo of a manin six inches of bath water, silver-white lithium
drifts metallic through his blood stream, the span
of his hand in front of his face takes the low hum
from his mouth, returns it as a pebble to his tongue
for him to swallow, keep in the swim of his belly
below the muffled drum of his heart with all the rest.
© 2010, Martin Figura
From: Whistle
Publisher: Arrowhead Press, Darlington
Published with kind permission of the author.
From: Whistle
Publisher: Arrowhead Press, Darlington
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THE BATH
Crow-eyed nurses watch the faint echo of a manin six inches of bath water, silver-white lithium
drifts metallic through his blood stream, the span
of his hand in front of his face takes the low hum
from his mouth, returns it as a pebble to his tongue
for him to swallow, keep in the swim of his belly
below the muffled drum of his heart with all the rest.
From: Whistle
Published with kind permission of the author.
THE BATH
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