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Open Poetry #43
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WTBAKELAR
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Senior Member
since 2008-09-09
Posts 1089
Utah, USA

0 posted 2008-09-15 12:01 PM


Wither on the vine.

She brought it home
He planted it
They planned to watch it grow,

The little fruits
That they would share
How were we to know?

She left this world
Before the plant
Had fruit on which to dine,

Now they’re alone,
It doesn’t matter anymore,
They wither on the vine.

Wm. Tracey Bakelar


© Copyright 2008 Wm. Tracey Bakelar - All Rights Reserved
Marchmadness
Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271
So. El Monte, California
1 posted 2008-09-15 12:11 PM


What a sad and wistful poem but beautiful all the same, WT.
                            Ida

TheAnonDavid
Member
since 2008-08-28
Posts 237
UK
2 posted 2008-09-15 01:36 PM


Even among the saddest of thoughts and memories there are always the happy and well remembered times. The fruits on the vine may wither but the vine can still live on. I like this soulful little poem; well written and well thought out.

Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Dylan Thomas

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