Narrow strip of dirt road
in the country, bathed in red--
guide me safely home,
to the doorsteps of my father.
In the country, bathed in red--
wide, rolling pastures opening
to the doorsteps of my father.
I want the balm of
wide, rolling pastures opening
their secrets to me.
I want the balm of
these rusting barbed wires.
Opening their secrets to me,
the abandoned houses speak of
these rusting barbed wires
running along the endless lane.
The abandoned houses speak of
ghosts - born from old whispers -
running along the endless lane.
The words come: enduring, hallow
ghosts, born from old whispers.
Worn ruts dug into the road--
the words come: enduring, hallow.
Outlive me.
Worn ruts dug into the road
guide me safely home.
Outlive me
narrow strip of dirt road.
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a/n:
Inspired by Rick Barot's "Aubade"
The form of this poem is a pantoum.
YOU ARE READING
A Mind Beneath the Waves
Poetry"I was seven. You were sixty-something. Of the three of us -- you, me, and the alligator -- I'm likely the only one alive." ☾✩☽ "... indigo velvet curling around you. Sleek and electric blue, you stand wreathed in flowers" ☾✩☽ "...I would like...
