A Walk

16 Comments

Tags:
  • Death
    • ,
  • Devotion
    • ,
  • Emotional
    • wheelsal
    • It is a new year and I can't wait to read all my friends new poetry.

    A Walk

     So often we walked
        together
    so many places
    frozen by the cold
    drenced by the rain
    burrowing our cheeks
    the sun cuddling us
    like a quilt
    around ageless
        passion.

    So many changes
       began
    holding your hand-
    touching renewing me
    pretending it held
    fragile security
       protecting
    me from pain.

    It really couldn't.

    You are gone now
    I walk alone with
       pain
    trying to
    hold your hand.

    Poem Comments

    (16)

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    frog commented on A Walk

    07-28-2010

    This is SO beautiful. I love how you craft words and emotion together. Wonderful!
    Reply to Comment

    cheronld commented on A Walk

    05-19-2010

    What a very nice tribute...this was a hearfelt poem...I truly liked it..
    Reply to Comment

    wheelsal

    05/27/2010

    Thank you for your visit. Sally

    jademelissa74 commented on A Walk

    05-17-2010

    Sally, what a touching, heartfelt piece you have managed to craft. This is beautifully expressed Sally. You always make my day :)) Love ya!
    Reply to Comment

    wheelsal

    05/27/2010

    As usual, I appreciate your comment so much. You make my day everyday. Sally

    Chaos128 commented on A Walk

    05-13-2010

    Remembrance is an after image that grows stronger with time. The physics don't quite work out, but that's because the process is far above it. Good to see you back!
    Reply to Comment

    wheelsal

    05/13/2010

    Thanks. Hope in and out of here, but love reading good poets. Sally

    wheelsal

    05/13/2010

    oops hop

    soulwriter commented on A Walk

    05-11-2010

    The touch of a held hand tight can surely leave fingerprints on the heart... thank you for sharing in such a unique and beautiful way!
    Reply to Comment

    wheelsal

    05/11/2010

    Thank you for your comments. Sally

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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