A Passing

Rating: 2.4

Maples, proudly
showing
scarlet leaves,
in brazen wind.

An icy prominence,
he shuffles
down the path,
well-lined by
powdered birches.

No sound is heard,
a prickly feeling
of melancholy happiness
engulfing gently
his frail physique.

Yes, 'Welcome',
the word
slips easily
off bluish lips
as solitude now beckons
and offers up
a bed of moss
to rest a little while.

It was a miracle
that, strangely,
he had reached
down here
on earth
his paradise.

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Mary Nagy 15 November 2005

I found this to be very touching Herbert. Great poem. Sincerely, Mary

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Charles Chaim Wax 15 November 2005

a fine exploration of where to look where to find and how we're all bound to this whirling planet and that's a good thing a strong delicate poem

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Tiyler Durden 15 November 2005

snore.... I fell asleep after A...

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***** ********* 15 November 2005

This is such a cool poem Herbert! That last stanza is so encouraging to all of us, not quite believers in Heaven on earth. 10 from a firm believer Tai

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