A Trip into my Grave

August 8, 2010
By KipKlark GOLD, Wellesley, Massachusetts
KipKlark GOLD, Wellesley, Massachusetts
13 articles 0 photos 0 comments

A Trip into my Grave

There was a walking, stumbling soul
In this frigid summer glade
At the end of quiet road
Where Life's barter is repaid

Faded in his distance
Tiny he appeared
Grandiose and godlike
Shed belongings and his tears

His lover's pearl necklace
His father's golden chain
By the time he reached my resting place
Not an earthly thing remained

Taller, he was closer
Stronger in his stride
Wiser, he moved clearly
A man now bona fide

This familiar man left regrets
And he left behind his words
Dropped all of his possessions
Threw his musings to white birds

Pulled off all he had acquired
Tore his shining form apart
Passed all the dreamers he'd inspired
But could not remove his heart

With bare clothes upon his back
His heart, his soul and mind
He fell into my grave
Leaving spirit, soft behind

And every scrap he'd ever had
Every soul he'd reached and touched
Felt pain and singeing grief
But appreciated much

Where he had dropped
To sleep and lay
He'd done so beautifully
In a wonderous way

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