Old man in the night,
on the banks of the river,
carefully looks about,
no one must see him
in this deadly serious,
childish play.
In a white wax paper pastry bag,
he gently places the memories,
slippery feelings, a handful of tears,
an abundance of joy and a little,
lit tea candle.
Bending he delicately places it
upon the water, as though it were
some priceless thing and he sits
hands folded in lap, feet out,
on the river bank. watching
the white bag as it dims
and drifts away.
© P.M.H 2001
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 8:16 PM UTC
Old man in the night,
on the banks of the river,
carefully looks about,
no one must see him
in this deadly serious,
childish play.
In a white wax paper pastry bag,
he gently places the memories,
slippery feelings, a handful of tears,
an abundance of joy and a little,
lit tea candle.
Bending he delicately places it
upon the water, as though it were
some priceless thing and he sits
hands folded in lap, feet out,
on the river bank. watching
the white bag as it dims
and drifts away.
© P.M.H 2001
