Doug Jones

Rookie - 201 Points (Iowa)

The Meeting - Poem by Doug Jones

as I raised my eyes one cold winter morn’
to a forgotten page with ink there adorned
I gathered in all that faded wonder
from days long since passed under
though the light was weak as a ailing bird
onward I cast my gaze and my mind was stirred
so nicely I began to sip it, to lick it, to wit
as though it were a pricey bit, to grip
in that dim light where letters are shadowed
like a biscuit covered with gravy and smoke
my inner being awoke
to peel away a freezing mist
trying to steal daylights tryst

Topic(s) of this poem: life


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, March 19, 2015

Poem Edited: Thursday, September 17, 2015


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