That Bears Our Name Poem by Eric Cockrell
That Bears Our Name
i can only taste scars tonight,
ashes, and blood turned to wine.
that old tree, cut and fallen,
the sound of wings long absent.
the web is empty,
and even the wind doesnt reply.
the garden mourns its time of passing,
and the plow is left alone.
sometimes we wake up homeless,
hungry without needing to eat.
to find that we are orphaned,
by the very heart that bears our name!
Life is like this, Eric. we have to go and talk to the people, not waiting to get introduced, when we speak through the whistle, even the air may respond. an interesting poem!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/23/2024 10:37:11 PM # 1.0.0.1119
We can lose everything a the dropp of a hat. A fantastic poem.