The Winning Of The Dusk Poem by Sandra Fowler
The Winning Of The Dusk
The boy is tearing sunset with his eyes.
The fey leaves turn in sequences of dusk.
Such fragile color cannot last for long.
Someone should hold him till his vision fails.
You need not tell him that his measurement
Just missed tomorrow by a shadow's length.
Say winning of the dusk paints him so tall,
That he can hitch a ride down with the sun.
Dedicated to a street child whose name is known only to God.
Previously published, 'Riverrun'
incredibly memorable verse. use of 'fey' was pivotal and cool. Everything is so fleetingly fragile. best care, sjg
This is a poem that, to me, celebrates the wonder of all life and the dignity and preciousness of human life, no matter in what circumstance it is found. It captures the beauty of existence, no matter how fleeting the moment. Somehow, it recaptures that moment in life when the world was new.
With Winter approaching these street children are on my mind - a sight staying with me behind a closed door at night. Promises, promises never kept by the Powers that be - thank you for bringing their plight to light...
No one should be living in the streets, much less a child, but sadly many do… and their survival is day to day, if not meal to meal….
Sandra, I hope someday you will read my unsuccessful attempt in 'Street Kids' to capture what you have so admirably scored. Blessings always, Bill Grace
Your opening line set my imagination running riot.I can see this boy looking although he does not know what he is looking for
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 3:28:16 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Sandra wonderful qualty in writing this one, this is always a sad subject, but I am sure that most people feel for the street child, if they don't then your poem will surly make them change their minds. Such lovely words again great work cheers Sylviex