Grave at the Quiet Bend
“The fingers of shadow lengthen
Along the quiet bend
Of the road that runs from East to West
Beside the grave of a friend.”
Category: Writing
To Grandma on Ezekiel’s Birth
ShareThis poem was written just a few days after my firstborn son was […]
Vanishing Point
“…I close my eyes at journey’s end, and sit beneath the shade.
The heat of travel flows from my fingertips and toes to the soil beneath me,
The earth returns a cool stillness in trade.
I open my eyes to the golden touch of sundown.
The last rays illuminating the treasure I have traversed.
There is no hurry in me now and so I remember…”