Lament Poem by Alan James Roll
Lament
For J
Among the small graves a soft shaft of sunlight gently rains
On a memory; etches, as a glittering finger,
Golden corn field hair, ignites eyes sweet as the sea’s blue plains,
Traces lips pink as Mary’s carnation tears and lingers…
Then - is gone. Oh ancient sun above how shall I tell
Of the heart’s deep yearnings that the years can never quell?
Sunday, March 2, 2014
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5/14/2024 11:26:23 AM # 1.0.0.1119
