Broken Poem

Written for:  Sunday Whirl, Wordle #181

Words:  name, connected, sheets, broken, poem, signs, strips, vital, sense away, speech, goblets

He lay on a hospital bed
wrapped in a white sheet,
away from the scene
of the crime, where green
glass goblets lay broken–
pieces of glass stained amber–
and a scent of brandy lingered
in the air. Strips of paper,
torn from a leather-bound,
black journal, littered
the floor. With no hints
of violence, detectives
were at a loss to make sense
of what had happened
in this room. Nothing could be
learned from the John Doe,
as no form of identification
could be found to provide
a name or address. In a state
of shock, he was unconnected
to reality, incapable
of speech. His vital signs
were poor. With a lack of
evidence, one detective
pieced together the cuttings
of paper, that were strewn
about. He scratched his head
as he read what seemed to be
the beginning of a poem . . .
“She wore a ring, and in
the sting of it, I should
have known …”

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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4 Responses to Broken Poem

  1. whimsygizmo says:

    Oh! That last line! So great! 🙂


  2. Denise des Jardins Poitras says:

    I was on the edge of my seat. A detective report wrapped up in a poem, then at the end a poem within a poem.

    Liked by 1 person

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