The Stable of Hope
No abode,
Told to move on,
Where to?
No offerings,
Blankets worn and frayed,
Cold stiff joints,
Frostbite?
Shoes threadbare,
Chilblains?
I gaze high,
The star glows,
My stomach groans hard,
I pack my meagre bag,
Then,
head for the stable
15/12/22
Writing challenge – Yalto Form Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Howmanysyllables.com
Copyright © W J Clarke | Year Posted 2022
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