A Twisted Stick

By John Aldred

I see a knobbly stick
And think of the gnarled hand
That leans there on.
A gnarled hand
Reaching from a knotted spine
To support a once trim frame.
A twisted spine
A twisted stick
A lumped hand of pain,
Yet still the eyes smile
Above the body so lame
And won is another battle
Over ill-shaped hurt.

Copyright 1999 John Aldred