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Sparrow Tears Barren boughs, without nest, without bird, drape beyond a farm house welted with scars, its tears falling from eves. Lantern glass glows dark, shadowed fireplace has turned to soot. A heart of aches precedes me, yesterday only an echo. Path to the well is healed, no sash to disguise speckled panes, gate strokes dust. Bony weeds, dry as chalk gather. Eighty years of fickle wind caught by the roof, wizened heaps of yard keeps tracks hugging ground like seeds awaiting birth. Empty bucket, its fiber cracked, sags. Elm withers without its cloak, blue sky, broken by clouds, looks down. It was then the Sparrow wept. Beneath collapsed grey wood, amidst rotting memories and Sparrow tears, a single daisy sprouts. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas H. Smihula On Date: 2007-12-04 13:08:21
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.00000
Life reborn from all the memories. Nicely relayed and an enjoyable read. I like the ending giving us new life within the difficulties we face. Well done. Thanks for sharing, Thomas