To Andy
I cannot say that you were my friend.
You were obstinate,
and sometimes selfish and arrogant.
You picked up your life, went round the bend.
Found something fortunate,
In your travels and seeds you did plant.
East to west in the direction of the sun.
Moving towards brighter things.
Fingers, knees; soiled before the day is done.
Smiling full at the dirt beneath your nails,
And what it is your hard work brings.
I am sad for tears wept by your kin and ilk,
And harvests wrought you will never see.
I am sad you returned once more,to kiss that deathly milk,
And not being able to befriend the man, who you came to be.
I cannot say what it is that happens now,
But should you find yourself in fields of black,
We can imagine you will man the plough,
And proffer instead to us,
Endless pastures green.
YOU ARE READING
Blank Spaces
PoetryAn emotive journey through the empty places we visit but never want to see. The pain, the heartbreak, trying to see hope in places there may be none. And the secrets, and yes there are always secrets. Can you see them in this dark empty space? So it...
