The Man in the Iron Lung by David Osgerby
The man in the iron lung lived on Holderness Road.
I never knew his name. The iron lung was his abode.
He viewed the world via a mirror above his head.
Incapable of movement, he lay chained to his bed.
I often thought about his dreams. Did he walk free
Of encumbrance as he dreamed? And did he see
life always reversed? Did he hear the mechanical
wheezing it produced? Did he resent the manacle
Of his attachment? Perhaps the noise went unheard,
and silence was the one sound that he dared
not hear.I saw him often,gazing down
from the top deck as I passed,coming back from town.
The man in the iron lung died long ago,but all the same,
I remember him. I never knew his name.
Copyright © David Osgerby 2012.
We continue to be inspired by David, a Preston ex-pat living in London. In The Man in the Iron Lung he has given us a delightful example of a rhyming poem.
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