At the Finish


such a simple goal it seemed: write a thousand
poems. twenty-nine months it took to write
them, and that is the surprise. so much time,
so much life come and gone rivers flooded
droughts come and gone ice storms and ice fog nights
summer with tornadoes and storms of past
resurrected to haunt the now such love
gained and lost lovers won and tossed aside
not for lack of love, never that, but for
incompatibilities love not over-
comes . . . the dog euthanized . . . landslide crumbled
to dust returned the father leagues of life
traversed and each mile unmarked is a poem
failed or captured matters nothing in the end. . . .

David M Pitchford
11 Feb 2014

Advertisements

One thought on “At the Finish

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