Winter PassesA Poem by DeirdreShe died. She died like winter passes With the electric crackle of Dry air and bleeding chapped lips That never heal He had died long ago He passed like a stream in summer Cool, and welcome. She was broken hips And sagging shoulders The taste of apple, Forever bitter on her lips. Mother of Earth Lifted up by the worn and calloused hands Of her children. Palms like leather carrying her To the top of the highest mountain So she could be closest to the one who made Her.
© 2009 DeirdreAuthor's Note
|
Stats
248 Views
1 Review Added on August 30, 2009 AuthorDeirdreNew Paltz, NYAboutHi. I'm Deirdre. I don't really write that often, but I try. Criticism is super encouraged. more..Writing
|