Horsemen on the horizon
upon a hill
keep looking at me
in the distance.
Faces rescued
from battles
in the past.
Paths without glory
seem to come back,
expecting an answer?
I dream of birds I can talk to,
of greyhounds of long shadows,
of angry cats
and guitars
about to explode.
Melodies I cannot forget
hide in my brain.
And then the dance
in that empty space...
The limelight on a silent chair,
the wake up time,
another coffee,
and miles to drive.
.
Fabulous write. Very haunting and evocative. You are a fine, contemporary wordsmith. Always your friend at poemhunter. Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a powerful yearning for something still so far away....quite haunting....