»
Archives
»
Open Poetry #46
»
old roads meet again
| Open Poetry #46 |
|
old roads meet again |
|
|
Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
He passed the road with a long pause. Feeling a sudden urge, he called his father, Called the man that gave him wisdom throughout the years, The gift of insight that only a man who lived through the war could see. He called him, as tears rolled down his face, Rolling down like Eskimos, with their hind legs Running along the Alaskan hills. He spoke to his father with an open heart, A slender thought that turned into a marble of thoughts. And as they talked, as they flowed like a small siren Going faint into the middle of the night, the son became at ease. He listened to his father as his poignant breeze of words left him feeling like a prayer going into the silent night, just North of Cortland, North of where the people slept. It was like a dream for his father, To hear his son confide in him, Reminiscing of the days when he was a child And the summer days never seemed to end But, unlike then, this conversation came to a close, He realized how lucky he was, To have a father, a friend, A man that listened until his tears turned to the sun. |
||
| © Copyright 2010 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
|
Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
Beautiful. Precious father-son relationship that brings healing. Margherita |
||
|
Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Thanks, Margh. Hope you're well. Father - Son, more important as the years go by. Tomer |
||
|
|
⇧ top of page ⇧ |
|
| All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. | ||
