Sunday, November 06, 2005

A Ripple, In Passing

Driveways treelined, neighbours sparce,
plain houses hug the country road
embraced by family fields,
and garbed in ancient thickets
Bright and hopeful, porch lights glow
But not for me.

Oh, to belong
To a warm kitchen with
its welcoming smiles,
soft background AM-borne,
and the presence of others,
unseen but felt,
awaiting the call to a shared moment...

I push on
into falling dusk;
The orphaned leaves run wild.

1 comment:

A thinker said...

This is a lovely poem. I'm glad to read fellow bloggers from Canada. And it answered my question--you are a photographer. Rebel XT--would love one of those babies someday.

peace to you