In Memory Of My Father's Strong Hands Poem by M.L. Squier
In Memory Of My Father's Strong Hands
A resplendent stone twinkled.
But.
Man was dying.
In wars.
Turtles.
Still deposited their eggs into the sand.
But.
Earth was dying.
Bees.
Still found nectar in flowers.
But.
Bees were dying.
It was time.
To elect a new president.
In the soft
Colors.
Of
Dawn.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
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4/24/2024 6:28:37 PM # 1.0.0.1119
