fifty eight years, <br />step after step... <br />pathways of stone, <br />of water, of wind... <br />no footprints behind. <br />small fires on dark nights, <br />waves of stillness opening... <br />the eyes of the breathing surround. <br /> <br />touch! touch! <br />echoing against the roar. <br />words sealed on paper <br />for future fires! <br />when scars become gifts <br />left on strangers' doorsteps... <br />for there are no strangers, <br />soul unto soul. <br /> <br />step after step, <br />rain falling softly. <br />smoke from the chimney, <br />hangs like a prayer. <br />face to face, <br />lips touching lips, <br />a small bag of dreams <br />left under a child's pillow. <br /> <br />fifty eight years.<br /><br />Eric Cockrell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fifty-eight-years/
