The Sorrowing.A Poem by Leslie PhilibertSorrow.
The stairs ascending,
the blinding window sinks to my feet. Wax and dust in the summer heat, then sudden coolness , as if in a church. Standing lost and undecided I hear children, so I hide in the shadows of a wood floored landing. Petals strewn before me, wilted like the stanzas of a forgotten poem. Time to withdraw gracefully, walking proudly no longer I must submit to retribution.
© 2012 Leslie PhilibertReviews
|
Stats
327 Views
11 Reviews Shelved in 1 Library
Added on February 24, 2012Last Updated on February 24, 2012 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..
|