|
|
Socks
Upon my pillow,
A single
Auburn hair.
To someone else,
It means
That she was there.
To me, it is
Eternity to share.
Love grows warm
When formed a pair.
Clings forever where
Time resuscitates a memory
Providing life new air.
And we, like little puppies,
Follow slow behind.
As they lead the way
Throughout each day,
To things with which
We play.
Memories holy stirred
Or haunting bold.
Socks to others
Puppies chew on
When they’re old.
Copyright ©
Vernon Witmer
|
|