OK, this is a fridge door poem I made earlier, but since the object it describes is once again being exhibited I’m passing it off as done today
As for Living III, by Penny Ryan. Photo by Kate Scott
Rhyme # 13: Piece in an exhibition
A broken ribcage from some broken
evolutionary line?
But these aren’t bones – too glibly spoken!
That’s no knotted ridge of spine.
This work displayed in art school stairway
is not by some apprentice Yahweh,
nor did the wondrous Burgess Shale
a woven life like this unveil.
And yet it speaks of some great sorrow,
something beautiful that’s lost,
A world bereft, left with a ghost.
Perhaps a warning for tomorrow
unless we act, lives we hold dear
will be as if they never were.
Me fail? I fly! 
Love the photo as well
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Oh,Jonathan,please cheer up.I agree but the whole scene is getting me down,,and I’m older’n you.Big hug never-the-less.I am enjoying your November rhymes.Anne Bell (didn’t know I am still around,did you?
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Hi Anne. What a wonderful surprise! A big hug right back at you. Your ‘Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered’ print hangs just inside my front door and stops me from ever becoming too gloomy.
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