Not A Nostradamus

An entry ebullient.
The feet that touched the head
 displaying a serpentine posture,
 the legs that struck to the cadence
exactly like the trot of the peacock
 the knees that squat elegantly while dancing
unlike the shoddy exercise ones
 the hip that swirled and whirled
like a windy breeze. not too harsh.

 Staying stagnant.
The nimble feet have turned wooden
toggle and struggle to walk,
 the slender legs appear stuffed
like a pillow, painful penetration
the rounded knees wobble
as the pivotal hinge joints give away.
the hips have lost proportion with pounds
of flesh loosely hanging. presenting
an awkward gait.

That was and that is
the present and past

afraid to think about future,
the lower part of the body
evolves and devolves,
once an apple of the eye
currently exposes a fungus
 ridden fruit, oozing out,
 in the verge of decay,
A process all species undergo
as years gallop



By meenas17

A lover of classical Carnatic music.
An avid reader, passionate writer, into stocks and investments for livelihood

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