first response

This poem is a sister piece to my short story, "Broken."

An arm extended, now moist and golden,

I sit and wait for time to tell.

Subdued nervousness fill the harshly lit bathroom �"

a fog of unknown futures and unplanned possibilities.

The ticking of an egg timer chants from the counter,

cold impersonal clicks �" it cares not for children.

Reviews

[Kaa Na Kalyanasundaram]

I like the words coined in this poem. Keep it up. I expect more from your poem especially on humanitary approach. You are having the capacity of word power also. My best wishes.