Open Poetry #42 |
Passing by |
Ocean Vuong Junior Member
since 2008-03-29
Posts 37NYC |
The old man sat by the bay. He could not see the sky’s smooth scarlet, amber glow, nor streaks of violet And so, he only listened. The old man sat by the bay as I came beside the heap of shade. O how he jerked, like a child woken from fairy-dreams. “Are you my son?” His face wanes in the fog of Hope. I bowed away and pinched my brow. Across the bay a talon swept the cove to pluck the time from a shuddering trout. I faced the stranger and sung “I am” of which he flashed his ashen teeth and said to me, “I knew you’d come.” And so we watched the Sun completely sink, till our souls lay hidden in the blue of ink. |
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© Copyright 2008 Ocean Vinh Vuong - All Rights Reserved | |||
Brian23 Member
since 2007-11-03
Posts 73Belfast, Ireland |
Good poem. Enjoyed reading it |
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Marchmadness Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271So. El Monte, California |
"to pluck the time from a shuddering trout." very interesting poem. Ida |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Enjoyed...James |
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