Open Poetry #48 |
autumns gasp |
Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
A small cottage rested up the hill, from the winter road of Shawn's redemption the fear, that undying sin, restless, bearing it self to a string of branches that rested their laurels on the face of natures grace October, brisk air the sun; unwavering in its desire to rise each morning where the picture of life took a long look at the body; fetal state lifeless, cemeteries newest gravestone Just up north where dinner was warm pot roast, baked peas, and mashed potatoes in line with one another centerpiece of the kitchen wood table A few drinks passed Pinot Noir in each glass bottle by bottle Midnight passed his car broadened its lights pressed on the gas drove down the grove of trees that bristled over the quiet street His eyes became faintly quiet his hands slightly eased off the steering wheel and in a split second, the spirit of man became soils right hand barreled over, 57 chevy, cream colored laying over his body The man standing over him, eyes still bloodshot, wincing his headlights made the lifeless body hard to see Just a simple farmer father of three Jessie, Leigh, and Brooke his wife recently deceased breast cancer; stage four thirty years, anniversary every Fall The sound of music engine still revving and a man who rejoiced now froze like the crate of fresh air awaiting arrival from the nearby bridges lake Fragile, life and the human spirt where fragments of time can spell the shade of gray on a mans long face the softly departed his brown, scuffed boots still tightly knotted wondering why they weren't brushing up against the fields grass that early Autumn day. |
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© Copyright 2013 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
EmmaRose Senior Member
since 2011-03-02
Posts 1376Midwest |
the pain comes through in living color regardless, that death is spoken of so eloquently |
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