The Small Ankle

Poem By Susan Drozda Cooper

He looked again toward the sky
It was blackened by a greenish glow-
stifiled memories.
Legs raised in tribulation of the
Sabbath.
Distant whistling from the grass-land-
while curtains blew,
Chipped porcelein sink still stained.
His glazed eyes traced along this void....
wondering...if.. a small ankle would appear
at the opened door......
saying yes.

Comments about The Small Ankle

oh that ending is gorgeous. you are a wonderful writer, i loved every word. I shall be seeking out more.. ~kelly


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Other poems of COOPER

That Is Enough

As for life..... I see it!
But I have yet learned
to read it.
I look for its gifts....

The Crow

I once drew a small crow on a
huge piece of paper.
At night I could hear the fluttering of
large wings.

The Man With Green Hair

He pushed trees aside by glances
and turned wheatfields into thistle.
He turned cliches into hymns,
and durges into whistles.

All Before

To pool the sand, while my feet walk,
Among seas gifts, upheaved
Leaves the holes that filled with hopes
Of youth I once believed.

The Breath Of A Stone

One time I saw something rare. It was a
stone breathing.
I had found it in a field, alone, by itself.
I watched it for 10 years, until I was older.