Jean McLeod writes delectable poems. In many varieties.
Rebus
By Jean McLeod
Insight fades from a mind
skimmed of imagination
beneath bloodless bones
under the discouraged droop
of loosed skin.
Rictus-painted lips
beatified once
by love and laughter
too ripe, now,
like fruit on the verge.
As words seep away
she holds rigid hope
that friends
who mainline ideas
weave histories
construct worlds of words
will not yet notice.
Jean,
I can so relate to this; profound.
Thanks so much, Suzanne. It was good to see you last month at Metamorphosis.
Another of your magnificent poems, Jean! I am resonating with each well chosen word and feel such empathy. Profound and poignant. Love it!