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Anne Margaret Poole Poem
I know you are here.
I can feel you,
In the tips of my fingers when I pass through the path
Broken now by soldiers of summer that once swished strong bayonet’s
Fighting a cold war before resting on the icy ground
For I am blind to you,
I can’t see you
Blighted with my fathers curse to confuse you with others
But I know you are here.
I can taste you,
In the chestnuts that swarm in the heat of the marketplace
A buzzing of warmth from a natural source
A bubbling coffee to heat tired eyes
Yes, I am blind
But not as you think
Colour blind
This doesn’t mean I let you fall from my sight.
Copyright © Anne Margaret Poole | Year Posted 2009
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Details |
Anne Margaret Poole Poem
Looking down upon the smiling faces,
Captured in a black & white embrace
She recalls the only day of warmth in
Late November
A freak of nature’s gift was sunlight
Touching on their skin
Like embers
Breaking down she begs him to
Remember
Searching for the spark to re-ignite
I can barely see. Who is she? I know her face, I think,
I might, I can’t be sure. Maybe one day I’ll escape.
And tell her things I think I feel for her.
Through the tears she realises
The cruel exchange of sun
For darkness
Glowing embers in the breeze
Love is not a memory
And from the crutches of
His blackness
He turns to see her silent sadness
Softly puts his hand upon her
In his eyes the final flicker, a tiny spark
Enough, to say goodbye
Copyright © Anne Margaret Poole | Year Posted 2009
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