A woman before your time;
I gaze for hours upon hours
at the vast grey sky;
distant brown rock, hard and cold
in the distance, supports a white tower,
an isolated light house.
It was as if your soul rests there
observing from afar a part of you that’s gone forever.
That is your voice,
your words remain
in the literary room.
You were a poet before your time.
Silence accompanies the roar of the ocean.
The lighthouse beckons all who care to listen.
Herb Wolf, III
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