What Becomes Of Words Without Breath Poem by Susan Lacovara
What Becomes Of Words Without Breath
What becomes of words without breath
When left alone on the outskirts of death
The yellowing pages that told of my soul
Who will repeat them once my image is old
In the leather bound books high on a shelf
That speak of the secrets I long kept myself
To whose hands will hold them these lines I created
When stilled are my eyes and my love is outdated
Can they long survive me with a life of their own
These seedlings well rooted, when my time is outgrown
Will they fall to the ears of a new poet's heart
What becomes of words without breath, when I depart
have scribbled in books, written on half torn looseleaf papers, napkins, unsent cards and letters and journals, when comes a time I am no longer their keeper...I have preserved so much of my life's experiences through them, and wonder what will be their future...who will keep their soul and mine, for that matter, alive.....?
Susan! ! ! ! ! This is EPIC! ! ! ! ! ! All your poems are great but this is a touchdown in the SuperBowl! ! ! ! Loved it! ! ! ! Thanks!
very fine, I like it, thanks. please read my poems and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/6/2024 8:22:11 AM # 1.0.0.1119
a wonderful title followed by a brilliant poem, , ,