I came upon Neruda today,
laying open, catching the sun
Just sitting there on the old wooden bench
Much loved and well thumbed,
spine broken, ringed a dozen times
with tea, coffee, goodness know what..
That lugubrious face, staring sightlessly
out into, the world...
and my thoughts, drifted, to you,
my friend, whose voice I never heard
but knew the passion of the writer,
He Pablo, was one of your heros..
and as I flicked through the beauty
of words, so emphatic and beautiful
so sublime, so masterfully crafted.
I paused and smiled, thinking of
you and he sitting on a park bench
on some other plane....
discussing words and their worth...
I left Neruda there to captivate
another mind and heart....
and went on my way...
somewhat
lighter of heart....
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 6:34 AM UTC
I came upon Neruda today,
laying open, catching the sun
Just sitting there on the old wooden bench
Much loved and well thumbed,
spine broken, ringed a dozen times
with tea, coffee, goodness know what..
That lugubrious face, staring sightlessly
out into, the world...
and my thoughts, drifted, to you,
my friend, whose voice I never heard
but knew the passion of the writer,
He Pablo, was one of your heros..
and as I flicked through the beauty
of words, so emphatic and beautiful
so sublime, so masterfully crafted.
I paused and smiled, thinking of
you and he sitting on a park bench
on some other plane....
discussing words and their worth...
I left Neruda there to captivate
another mind and heart....
and went on my way...
somewhat
lighter of heart....
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