Barbara Grant-Richardson

(Bronx, New York)


Poem by Barbara Grant-Richardson

Walking quietly through lifes maze,
drawn by fate in the twilight hour.
Paths crossed
Briefly entwined for moments of
A certain comfort hidden within
the depths of ones soul.
Buried memories of a last touch
silently creeps into my dream,
Far beyond my grasp I reach for thee.
Drifting deeper within these walls of
solitude light breaks through and the
energy of life begins a new.
And once again a chance to impact the

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Read poems about / on: solitude, fate, dream, light, life, memory

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003