Elegy For My Friend
Elegy for My Friend
No one knew that night’s slumber was his last.
His ride at eight-years was windy, fast.
The motorcycle cherished travels past.
Eternity was reaped from sleep, alas.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
January 26, 2010
Poetic form: Elegy
Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2010
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