It's Still Life

Written as prose:

The Fall

When old women fall, they lose their voice. Their legs go funny angles, all catawampus like Bambi on that frozen lake. And when they call for help, their voice shrinks, an echo in their porous bones, a wobble sound that no one hears . . . . . h.h.h.help. And I swear that’s exactly how it was.

---

Written as verse:

The Fall

When old women fall,
they lose their voice.

Their legs go funny angles,
all catawampus like Bambi
on that frozen lake.

And when they call for help,
their voice shrinks, an echo
in their porous bones,

a wobble sound that no one hears
. . . . . h.h.h.help.

And I swear
that’s exactly how it was.

---

Written for(Global/National Poem Writing Month) aka: Glo/NaPoWriMo Day 1 (a story about the body. The poem should contain an encounter between two people, some spoken language, and at least one crisp visual image), and Writers Digest, PA: Letter F, Day 1, A word using the letter F. Image is from WikiArt, The Fall of Phaeton by Michelangelo (1533, Rome), public domain. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting #glopowrimo #napowrimo on Twitter