The lonely landscape whispers of itself.
Yesterday's shadow overtakes the field.
Lost in such thoughts we wonder what to do?
Bones are not strong enough to turn sunset.
Windows of home shine over the next hill.
Why must warmth always seem so far away?
Perhaps it might come closer if the dusk
Could understand the human need for light.
For all those who have lost their way.
Previously published The World Poets Quarterly, China
Sandra Fowler's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Lost by Sandra Fowler )
- On Chloris being ill, Robert Burns
- Birthday Ode for 31st December, 1787, Robert Burns
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- Lines Written under the Picture of Miss .., Robert Burns
- Venetian Candy, John Updike
- Sylvander to Clarinda, Robert Burns
- The Lady, PAUL COLVIN
- From ' The Holy Roode', Sir John Davies
- Tao in the Yankee Stadium Bleachers, John Updike
- Epigram on Dr. Babington's looks, Robert Burns
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