Bare Eyes Crack With Sorrow - Poem by Sandra Fowler
The bare eyes of old houses crack with sorrow,
Because the sun will rise again tomorrow.
Of all who pass by there is no dissenter,
No mood exists upon this street but winter.
A woman and a man walk by together,
Their shadows painted filigree on weather.
Gazing steadfastly upward beyond dying,
They memorize whatever birds are flying.
Comments about Bare Eyes Crack With Sorrow by Sandra Fowler
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You