RoadWriter

Heart, Soul, and Rough Edges — A Gypsy Journey of Words and Wonder

Another poem: Cold Stone

Cold Stone

 

Dirt and stone beneath my feet,

clouds and mist above me,

in my ears, the sheep’s high bleat.

Dear, I know you love me.

 

As I wander down the road

I leave you behind me,783813785_2782529629_0

standing in the field I hoed.

Shafts of sunlight blind me.

 

My way is long and dark, alone.

I won’t be returning.

Will our child remember, grown,

a father’s love so burning?

 

Yet I must this journey make

else my soul be fettered.

Your love you gave and I did take,

but it left me tethered.

 

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