Sonnettics

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Our forest world is full of mighty trees
I like my tree the best; it’s tall and strong
It’s filled with leaves that rustle in the breeze
The winds of time produce a mighty song

Our leaves all sing; our root provides their tune
Though like their songs, the leaves all come and go
But not the root, the root remains, a boon
Established and ordained to help us grow

Our root provides an anchor in the storm
Fierce storms have blown down leaves from time to time
All leaves will fall; it’s just a forest norm
New leaves will grow, our tree remains, sublime

Regardless of the leaves, our tree bears fruit
I hope all leaves keep faith within our root

​Nobody sees what’s amputated, lost
And yet it’s gone, as surely as some limb
Invisible, yet not without a cost
This TBI’s annoying, if not grim

What’s gone is my ability to show
Emotions that display humanity
My feelings still exist; a fact I know
As surely as the sane know sanity

And so I write my feelings time to time
Like carving some prosthetic lines of verse
At times they limp; at other times they rhyme
At times they seem to say: “It could be worse.”

At least with my prosthetic poetry
I’ve found a way to share humanity.