Only marrow enough

A short poem.

by Marcus Jonathan Chapman

I am bone tired
the tongue no longer salivates
there is no roar
in my chest
only enough strength
to listen

And beauty slathers itself
on rusted sheds
cricket legs
a field of dust and weeds

only marrow enough
in my paintbrush bones
to listen

and the beautiful
hums in the fridge
slaps in the leaves
whistles in my nose
wheezes in my chest

My chest
just strong enough
to listen

for beautiful

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And my youth is…

by Marcus Jonathan Chapman

And my youth
is running out
and your age
is coming
to an end
and our time
has been
short lived.

So when my time
let it be
in the embrace
of a hug,
the verge
of a smile
that wave of
that crashes into
a new parent
when they hold
their child
for the first time.

Let it be
in the silent scream
of a shooting star.