Cradle

you’ve cradled my heart

these two years past

with the daily enquiry, 

sometimes two or three ‘are you alright’

a nod to my newly found fragility 

‘of course’ my stock response,

my words, sought from the dark

are nervous understudies

stumbling through the acts

part player, part imposter of sorts

tethered loosely to the dying stake

*

© Graham Sherwood 09/21