Homesick

I’d like to go back
before they are all gone

Before all the stones

are turned upright

all the deer are chased away
and all the pigeons hung on wire

Before names and memories become one

Before they are all gone

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under ageing, History, outlaw poetry, poetry

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 )

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s