The Promise
Surrounded by smoke
of a bellowing factory
tied to a promise
I dare not breach
Walking a dream
of evergreen hills
drinking up fountains
of native springs
A flight of sparrows
a vast blue sky
a greeting in dialect
peculiar to town.
On ashes of pines
smokestacks now rise
not even a speck
of light in the sky
Covered by shapeless
unyielding clouds
the stars have fled
the moon has followed
And yet I am singing
in secret smiling
the promise I have kept
has kept me alive.
First Place Winner: Brian Strand-All Yours April 30 Contest
Sol Magazine 2008 Workshop Second Place Winner-Original Title: Village To Town- A volunteer Nostalgia
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.