Cry

Take her arm to guide her

Along the concrete funneled

Weidlingbach’s short path

To see the local GP.

She’s highly agitated

With difficulties to keep her

Cool

Thanking me for helping.

Just after her blood pressure-

Readings raced thru’ the roof.

The poet’s gadget gauges

Are not showing a case for

Alarm.

Yet the doc’s measurement

Does.

Now what?

There’s no more corner left

No more niche

Where the artist could just

Relax

Sit in peace

And tend to his explorative

Work.

Poison is seeping into the air

The fields and meadows

Affecting plant life

Animals

Water resources.

The poet’s spouse at present

Has lost her grip on life

That will affect him deeply.

He cries out.

Yet she finds him aggressive.

Cry.yrC

 

zoltanzelan

ZJG-POetry’18

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