Steep Poem by Paul Reed
Steep
Do you remember the day -
Does the memory still abide?
When the sun was still at play
And I sat by your side;
For you, it was a kind of stepping down
Me - I suppose I was looking ahead
Wearing life as a comfortable gown
Made of invisible threads;
Now, I have this recurring dream
That troubles my earthly sleep
Of the ancient and sacred team
That climbed life's slope, so steep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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9/22/2024 9:01:06 PM # 1.0.0.1119
