flaked by the numerous

flaked by the numerous
the poor and sore
settling like a square peg
in a round hole
I still observing
see childhood winters
at the fall of night
crisp and wet
and I remember the snow
and the magic of water
turning into solid transparency
exhibiting dead leaves
in a motion abruptly stopped
and bungled into beauty




Poetry by Bob
Read 639 times
Written on 2016-02-11 at 23:29

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I don't think that image of your childhood world will ever repeat itself in future generations. The world is changing very fast.
Ashe
2016-02-11