[from Ashes on the Snow, L. Milton Hankins, CreateSpace, 2010]
I sift this charred and barren earth for one small piece of yesterday Though all has melted like winter ice before a fierce and ruthless fire. The mansion house, its lattice green and columns white, shutters and vanes are gone. The sounds of moving, living sharing and giving are silent. And no more the folks who walked these paths and made this hallowed ground. Revised January 9, 2021 For Good Old Days Contest
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.