I am in a wheelchair on grass
outside the hospital
I hear birds sing and distant traffic
...
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I agree with Marianne. You captured ALL of my attention with your story about this brave woman who lost her legs and her vision in a bombing in her home. The dialogue from the visitors intrigued me. Were they real...? Or were these snippets of conversation of men who visited her bedside over time and she is now mulling it over as she sits in her wheelchair in the grass. This was really cool writing. Thanks!
Wow! You painted me a picture, a short story, where I became invested in the characters in a few short lines. I am a WWII baby, and a sucker for stories from that era. I'm a painter, and you are too with words...Marianne Larsen Reninger ps. read my stuff here too....
Like Marianne, I was a WW2 baby and was fascinated by this story. All of your poems that I have read so far have pulled me in from the start and not let me go.