Poetry: Prompt - picture of buttons
- Jun 10
- 1 min read
Buttons
Click-clack.
That sound sets my teeth on edge.
Click Clack.
It’s the plastic tapping of my grandmother
Fiddling with the buttons of her cardigan.
Click-clack.
In the background is the TV, playing her daytime shows
Blurring into one mass of smiley, bland sound.
At her feet is the fat cat, thick with purrs,
Old but not as ancient as she.
On the street outside there are cars, chatter…
Yet
That sound pierces through me.
Bringing with it fear
The fear of her unseeing eyes
The fear of her fragileness that I am scared to hug
The fear that my bones will creak
and ache too.
And I’m frightened that maybe,
one day,
All I’ll hear is the
Click-clack
As everything else fades and leaves me with just
The buttons of an old cardigan.
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