Open Poetry #48 |
hands along the countryside |
Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
His hand touched the inside of a soft canal that peddled its way through the eastern countryside With its current moving calmly He stood next to its side like a small irish clover on the hills facing away from the patches of clouds that Sunday morning He was soft with his eyes rather a son of the winds tide tied together with the cities cobbled streets corners that touched the skies tepid lights Each morning, he sighed with his brown handkerchief by his side brown, neatly folded in his shirts right pocket resting along the same curbside across from the small, yellow shaded cafe He watched from the inside of his thoughts inside his rustic home his hands never came along the summers warm heart rather, they waited until the frigid temperatures of winter came barreling down the cobbled streets as his lips quivered until a tear burst onto the small lines of his hands and they finally left his pockets rising above the mist racing down the cobbled streets towards the rivers right hand. |
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© Copyright 2013 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
Lighthousebob Member Elite
since 2000-06-14
Posts 4725California |
I really enjoyed looking through your mind's eye at the mind's eye of another. Very intriguing. |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Lighthouse- Happy you enjoyed. Take care.. Cheers Tomer |
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BluesSerenade Member Patricius
since 2001-10-23
Posts 10549By the Seaside |
There are so many layers to your poetry...and each one is presented with great care. You are such a joy to read, tomer. |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Blues - Appreciate the lovely support. Happy you enjoyed. Cheers Tomer |
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