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of mockingbirds and mimeographs

The way the disease

took him by degrees, the body jettisoning what it could: his arms and legs,
his grin, his laugh, his voice.

- from “Traveling Through the Prairies, I Think of My Father’s Voice” by Neil Aitken

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This was written by joannemerriam. Posted on Thursday, February 26, 2009, at 7:29 am. Filed under Poetry. Bookmark the permalink. Follow comments here with the RSS feed. Both comments and trackbacks are currently closed.

2 Comments

  1. Margosita wrote:

    Beautiful!

    Thursday, February 26, 2009 at 5:35 pm | Permalink
  2. joannemerriam wrote:

    I agree. I find Aitken’s work particularly fine.

    Thursday, February 26, 2009 at 6:08 pm | Permalink