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Open Poetry #41
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Last Walk
| Open Poetry #41 |
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Last Walk |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Last of the running, The last of each river That stole the walkways Of the stories that Will be told between father and daughter. Like a ring That wont shed its diamonds Upon a finger That twists like a lace Fitted between her sweaters top. A never-ending tale, Except his hands wore, His feet were spun so wide He took one glance And said he could go no further. A legends fall, The glimpses they use To give one another When the winter trees Lay naked with the Fins of their branches lipping the air That use to seal their walks. He never said farewell, His heart gave out As the way his brown sleeves of hair Became gray, Much like the way The lake that sat Behind their house Up until his last winter. |
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| © Copyright 2007 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
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TomMark Member Elite
since 2007-07-27
Posts 2133LA,CA |
beautiful and heavy, very heavy!!!!!! |
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