To all old years gone

Time is a sure reckoning at all ends
where one is no more than the sum
of all that is left behind.

I see you at times
flickering in flames
and perhaps gas is the origin,
or at least, a foothold in my acuity
as pyrotechnics electrifies long lost faces.

This is to all that once
were touched by eyes,
by meetings with tenderness.




Poetry by Bob
Read 555 times
Written on 2008-01-17 at 22:33

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Rob Graber
The final stanza I find especially effective; so sad and sweet is "the sheer tenderness we once shared"...
2008-01-17