Country
The span is measured
lately years
of all your doings
goings and tears
the closet treasured
heart is wrung
hand is touched in
parting sung to
personal music, primed
to tell the time
you lived
you died
and all your tasks,
endeavours laid
at the feet of
your own trade -
the contribution
done and gone
your deeds undone
your glories never known
the span measured you
the core of days
and all your feet
and all your ways
and no-one left
to say the right or
wrong, paths
taken, blood
passed on. In
memory they live
the ones who
brought you joy
a blond-haired
girl, a
smiling boy
and all the
leagues of grass
that lie like
seas between
the echoing hills
my eyes have seen
my feet have
stretched and been
fade
fade
with the going down
of the sun, chime
the end of days.
previous poem
next poem