First I wrote with ink that smeared.
Next I got the sample wet.
Rattled then, I poked instead of scraped.
Looking back, my work appeared
incorrect as it could get.
Striking out, I hope my errs escaped.

This entry was posted in Aging, Health, Poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s