by FargoFansydney, New South Wales, Australia
Apr 2021 313 Views 3 comments
A story (1)
by the dark redwood planked lakeside house
he sat, they sat, they two, talking
what things passed between them I wonder
In that conversation I observed that grey day
Who knows, I but a stranger intruder onlooker
Seeing them, in fact three of them
His silent hands-clutched mother I guess
standing behind, unspeaking
Just an unheard event seen.
he sat, they sat, they two, talking
what things passed between them I wonder
In that conversation I observed that grey day
Who knows, I but a stranger intruder onlooker
Seeing them, in fact three of them
His silent hands-clutched mother I guess
standing behind, unspeaking
Just an unheard event seen.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2021
About this poem:
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