we should never really go home


Water

Approaching the loch
Without keys
No undulations emerge.
Without waving to lingers
Fingers tremble to
Touch the old waters.

The blades of grass
Beneath feats contain
What water cannot say
As it lies so deep and placid-
Green grass can be grasped
The water is just history
Trickling through many fingers.








Poetry by jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 453 times
Written on 2009-05-03 at 10:07

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NicholasG
If home is where the heart is, I wonder why we left?
;-)
2009-05-03