A small poem

July 27, 2014
The day draws on
as I hold the sensations
close to my heart
where I can hear them beating
all as one.

I pluck the strings
that seem to lead
in all directions to the center
of your soul.

And, the little thrums they make
guide me in the night
the darkest night
even if there is no answer
at the other end.

I fear you’ve forgotten me
and that each flower I pick
so small
finds the spring gone,
and the winter forever long.

Like the toes peeking beneath the covers
waiting to feel the slender arch of another
ever so cold
the winter bites
and so I play
the saddest songs I know
on the strings

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback