bright dazzling dips behind trees
vestige warmth remains
like that hand holding yours
now gone
and iconic windmill begins to glow
reaching out veins of hope to the world
that circles in orbit on illumined path
in ones and twos and threes
they are small children in wagons
and couples holding hands
and grandparents shuffling the
gravel
determined unwavering
powering the huge stones that
slowly (too slowly) grind out answers
to this steady chorus of untimely goodbyes
No comments:
Post a Comment