A Passing Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
A Passing
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.
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
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
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 1:09:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I found this to be very touching Herbert. Great poem. Sincerely, Mary