PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I found you, desperate,
pulling splinters from your eyes

It was 1952,
and the spin cycle of your
life went opposite
I watched you, at Lake Wilderness,
down the steep hill
your heart fleeting forward
and swatted down with a garden hose

But you moved with grace,
and with a certain atonement,
trimming the bushes, like hair
knowing, every snip meant something

And you called my name out,
crying when I did not come
wept until your eyes fell shut,

and I had a feeling that when you died,
you felt nothing but gratitude