Periwinkle-Blue Pyjamas
Periwinkle-blue pyjamas, crowned with grey, untidy hair,
added unexpected contrast to the drab neglected air
of the hospital sub-basement where the x-ray plate portrays
in black and white bone highlights that lie hidden from our gaze.
Periwinkle-blue pyjamas took their stand behind the queue,
as a wrinkled ragamuffin flanked by darker midnight blue
of two stalwart representatives of France’s force of law
who escorted the pyjamas to a chair far from the door.
Periwinkle-blue pyjamas clothed a scarecrow whose despair
could be read by all around him, clear as day to all who’d dare
to read between those lines that linked both hands and feet, that played
a sing-song steely solo when limbs were together laid.
Periwinkle-blue pyjamas parodied that ‘tent of blue’
Oscar Wilde depicted poignantly, - o scar! - so well he knew
man is by man dehumanized, what’s killed none can restore,
man leaves empty husk to wither, kernel rotten to the core.
Periwinkle-blue pyjamas did not care to meet one’s stare
in the hospital sub-basement where the x-rays laid all bare,
hands and feet were crossed uncomfortably, the keepers were obeyed,
leaving all around disconsolate, and three or four afraid.
Periwinkle-blue pyjamas, seated silently askew,
seem so distant, yet tomorrow could present a pair to you.
So suspend all hasty judgement, for who can tell what lies in store,
and be satisfied with happiness - don’t consistently seek more...
poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
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