Sandra Hudson Poet Choka

Echos of My Mind

Tennis shoe threads mark
A path in the fresh trail dirt
Climbing to where the air thins

A grave stone is placed
Where grand forefathers once stepped
History in a hillside

Apex reached, voice booms
Hello.o.o.o.o.o
I was here, ere, ere, ere, ere

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John Freeman June 23, 2009 at 7:45 PM Twisting was cool, with a girl named Jewel, make no mistake, she could bake a cake, but she was no fool, slim and proper, sweet as a candy wrapper, She went to school,no way to stop her! This is the end, of this poet's gen, my friend! God bless

Izzy Gumbo May 6, 2009 at 6:20 AM Nice Sandra! I could hear your echo. :) Thanks for visiting.

Carolyn Devonshire April 28, 2009 at 8:06 PM We all leave a mark, a trace of history in our wake as we pass through life. Love the way you used the "echo" to evoke this sense of lasting impact. Profound writing!

Raul Moreno April 28, 2009 at 5:59 PM Thanks for supporting my contest Sandra...Raul