Categories
Poetry

Proof by the Faults

In bed without solace of rest
Each sand of the day falling 
In poring over the text of ages. 
Like bed-light under comforter
Many moons ago. 
Still a similar warmth of spirit
And text of ages in hand:

A letter. 
From father to long lost love
Not mother. 
Proof of an everlasting trial. 
Secrecy by the fault lines
Which brought forth death
In the form of children. 
A text for the ages.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s