first crickets—
the pulse
in my wrist
Adele Kenny
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One part of my body
Pulses
Yet seems separated
Another part of my body
Throbs
Yet appears disenfranchised
A third part of my body
Desires relief
Yet is unable to move
And so it goes on
To so so many body parts
Where to function is not to function
But both my wrists, thankfully
Are in fine fettle
As are my hands and fingers
So
Long may the writing continue