Over The Hill
L
Laurence Overmire
0
Altın Yaprak
In middle age
you find
the bridges are burned
there's no going back
a long climb to the top
of a lonely hill
the sharp descent is
quick and foreboding
the road disappearing
in a thicket of lost hope
a dust of memory
choking back
tears.
~ Laurence Overmire
(Previously published in The Poet's Porch, Sept.2000)
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş