The Rite of Passage
The rite of passage
The old green wagon moves a life
Heads appear like nodding gulls
Eyes cast down searching cracked flags
Hopes from people sadly to be missed.
Un-walked limestone worn and smooth
Names unknown pronounced with care
Cats are watching ears laid flat
Hoping for a swift return.
Birnbeck sits in swathes of grey
Awash with things that crawled the tide
Calloused hands help downward steps
Keeping faith on steady legs.
In time with autisms dragging feet
Not knowing still how words are said
The backward journey seems so long
Help shunned by one straight eye.
Early smells of flowering mint
Pervade young senses drawn to home
Ancient trees clasp hands above while
Rooks berate a passage walked that
Knowingly follows time worn trails.
Kerb-stones line an unknown road that
Reach horizon's fading edges
Above a time worn scaffold sways
Perhaps to halt a wayward course.
Earth and ochres mix like blood
Healing scars sewn up in haste
That keep a soul from breaking up
Not caring should a life be lost.
Ink stained papers edges torn
Keep note of any ill thought word
Caen stone gently touched with love
Abate a sense of shame and loss.
Behind a broken brick façade
Held in place with hair and sand
Cements a quilt of truth and lies
Not yet for want of faith or feeling.
Unwanted dreams await their time
Held up by benches warped and bent
Each stroke and cut so carefully wrought
Helps sanity to keep its changing form
To live a life that can't be shared.
Copyright © Tim Riding | Year Posted 2020
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