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Open Poetry #46
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irish sky
| Open Poetry #46 |
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irish sky |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
He sat there with his arms folded Tears broken on his little shoulders. His long whimper around the dirt road Paved a way to a family home. The Irish music stopped Like the cold bullet of a shot Heard from a tuscan road. The village quieted, They stood with their eyes closed Because the rain didn't want to dispose Of this fathers body. It didn't want a boy To grow to be a young, fatherless man, But, like all things, even his thoughts Dread the long silent years Of an empty future. His father was his blood, The kind of thing you can't dream Or sit between the windows of the corral, And just, breathe. [This message has been edited by Tomer (07-22-2010 01:15 PM).] |
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| © Copyright 2010 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
sad tale you tell... and while I am not sure of the setting, it is a tale that has too often be real for young men and women. |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Cpat, thanks for the comment. All part of the cycle of life. Tomer |
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