Poetry From The Heart
The snow crusts my body
scabs hang on mange backs
no itch, no pain…
it passed long ago.
Sticks like glue to a cold heart
no worry about a thaw.
Weather takes a toll
tears swab sorrows
winds weaken a scarred heart
sleet whips my face to a red…
the mask I’ve become
yes, climate took a toll.
Years erode my form and spirit
even though deluges drenched
sun baked and discolored my figure.
Nothing remains of beauty and lust
a mere likeness of an earlier self
a ragdoll wrapped in a snow crust.
Barbara Kasey Smith wrote this poem – Copyright 2015 – Use by Permission Only.