Patricia

The nurses sneer at jokes, more than say go home, skim our path with stones, i check the light again, wonder where we'll go, escape this awful rain, each week the wind blows, where we sleep in shadows, no one heeds the scarecrow, we listen for daily trains, hear their empty echoes, commuters circle our lanes, when sunlight heats the bones, we tend to swim below, pockets full of notes, the future's not to blame, it's a gambler's last throw, don't really feel the shame, fire burns at our toes.