Die FeldkapelleA Poem by Leslie Philibertjust a few lines about what I like to look atMaria`s little house, far from a house of prayer, a doll`s house, small roof clean and bricked and aped from a farmhouse, white to hurt your eyes. A chapel on a Summer carpet, that saves time for the corn, the diesel pulse of a tractor, heavy boots before wrought-iron.Brick warm and rustic, only the small blue flowers in a jam jar are wilted, the crops too young to learn, the day resurrected as the sky grows older, this a moment for a precarious God.
© 2014 Leslie PhilibertReviews
|
Stats
170 Views
5 Reviews Added on January 12, 2014 Last Updated on January 16, 2014 AuthorLeslie PhilibertBavaria, GermanyAboutI`m not important. I just want to write a couple of good poems. Just read what I write. That`s enough. more..Writing
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|