Dust: the Flavor of His Dusk
wreathed verse
deep well of truth revives a son this eve
an eve which sees the dusk come to his sands
sand fills his mouth and eyes, yet this same grit
becomes the grit resolving his poor lot
great lot of skill he'll spend repairing loss
payday, loss of his lassitude has dawned
light dawns upon the shore at this day's end
ending his walk lamenting past success
successor to a firm in which he'd failed
a failure, from dust to dust, cast by dad
for dad had preached how sons will oft rebel
rebellion which his tribe had known so well
written August 3, 2012
a wreath entered in Shadow's contest on Dust
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
