You swirled in
as a flame,
all-consuming.
Nothing was
left after
you passed.
You touched
me and I was
ash.
(c) Bob Goldstein, Honolulu 1981 All Rights Reserved
You swirled in
as a flame,
all-consuming.
Nothing was
left after
you passed.
You touched
me and I was
ash.
(c) Bob Goldstein, Honolulu 1981 All Rights Reserved
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Nicely penned…
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Thank you Chris. I was an early effort. 🙂
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Do you mean early in the morning?
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I left the t off of it. Sorry, time for new glasses. I meant it was one of my first poems…1981.
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Damn! My first poems stunk….
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That may not be true. Sometimes there are gems hidden in the middle of a draft–sometimes we don’t really see a composition until we look at it much later.
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Like re-writing old stuff?
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Yes. Sometimes I’ll read an old draft and suddenly understand how it works; it’s a little like working on a puzzle.
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Reblogged this on crjen1958.
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