Walter C. Edwards
Farthers Gate - Poem by Walter C. Edwards
My fathers death was not quick but slow,
now in winters blows I feel his cold,
the heart is burning bright,
in such dim light,
snow betting down,
near the place I work,
fifty years later I drive down the same roads,
the shadow stands upon me out the windows,
I am now old, into winters quake.
to rest to soon for me,
but now at heavens gate again.
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