Older... Poem by Eric Cockrell
Older...
they call it getting older,
i call it rust!
or maybe autumn leaves,
and the promise of snow.
an avalanche in slow motion,
a door that creaks when closed.
a latch on the bedroom window,
ashes that smolder with hope.
a tree fallen across the path,
the old car that turns over,
but wont start.
the plow crusted with dried earth,
the hammer on the shelf.
you and i...
nothing forgotten!
Nice one Eric! ! ..ummm..what was I going to say? Regards...Sharon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
5/20/2024 1:23:07 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Feeling pretty rusty myself, but your poems are definitely not!