Ballet of the Hemophiliac Boy
Ballet of the Hemophiliac Boy
It was easy in the heart
Of the meadow, and in the corn.
But now comes the difficult part —
The brake of thorns.
The keys of clover and leaves
Didn’t fit the locks
Of his body. He couldn’t be
Cut by the sharp cries of hawks.
The real dance begins
Where the woods do,
Where his thin skin thins
Into
Air.
Here
Is where
One fears
He isn’t going to make
It through
The thorn brake.
Pray for him to.
I had a friend who had hemophilia. I remember it was good for us to know about it. So we could take it into account. Or know what to do if.
But I never thought of putting it into a lovely poem as this one. Very vivid. You can see the concentration and sorrow on the fave when that ballet begins. Great write.