It Was The First Of Fourth Poem by Riley Choma
It Was The First Of Fourth
Peace and quiet, it was the fourth of April..
The phone rang and I sprang..
This news was unbearable..
Tears rolled down as I hit the floor, shattered, beaten and tattered..
This time was the first...
I was now all dressed in black, siting glossy eyed..
listening to the people sing away thier sorow and then not long after, standing by her grave.....
But as I placed a rose all teary eyed..
Down that gravel road came a noisy old chevy truck...
She was there that day, as if to say..
Don't cry, come on lets share one last laugh...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/8/2026 6:57:13 PM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
Solid imagery in this poem and I liked the positive ending. My mum told all us kids, the instant you survive your birth, death is guaranteed.....it's only a question of time. A true fact, plainly stated. Nice work....you might like to check out a poem or two of mine. Cheers!