from time to time
i stand alone
and think
to the clicks and cracks of the burning wood
it brings me joy
that sound they make
of burning oak
and future mistakes
those poor pines
that once stood tall
like giants of the land
now burn upon the sands
i breath heavy
in and out
my mind walks along the mantel piece
and stumbles upon a photograph
and on that photograph
stands a women
with chisel and hammer in hand
my great grandmother
such power this photograph has
this piece of ancestral history
that stands above the fire
and mocks me whilst i sleep
i search the picture
trying to find some...
and instead ponder the question
by candle light
would i
could i
be something
like her.
About the Creator
Fred Hermes
This wind is sweeping my existence into a common misconception of procrastination. I will give my own reality to exist in the dream I have conjured; till death do us part. Faithfully Fred.
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