The Watchman Poem by Barry Middleton
The Watchman
the watchman's lamp is dim
he sees no distant fire
no signal on a distant hill
that he must pass along
the night is cold and damp
in blanketed despair
throughout the camps and valley towns
beyond all hopelessness
the watchman knows his job
he does not hope or pray
he scans the bleak imprisoned night
till dawn returns the day
Monday, January 8, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: waiting,watching
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5/11/2024 1:26:32 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Reading this here, Barry, I had the same impression I got when once or twice I read the poem of R.Frost talking about a light over the town....