#poem #poetry #amwriting #sketchbook jdlkjsakl

she died at nine of the complication
of a bone in the leg and shortage of breath
well is a hole and hay is for horses
you've got to die sometime she always said
buttons and bus-tickets paid for the wake
bread and iffits were laid out on plates
where there's a way there is a will to be read
I'll send you ten bob but maybe next week