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Marta C Weeks
Poems
Apr 2017
Last Breath
Remembering our dead
Mansions, or humble abodes
Virtues or deeds
Learned by heart
Nights of gladness
Morning sorrows
Stories as grains of sand
Forming eternal rocks
Or leaves from a tree
Shelters of hopes and dreams
Ocean waves drowning breath
Dreams crumbling as castles
Small homes becoming shrines
Images we choose, or not
Our great grands looking back
Thinking of us as we of ours
Long for memories to grow
Good grows as hands reach out
In time to lift, serve or destroy
Things break and lose charm
Those we feared and loved
Or guides found with sobs
Moments of shared delight
Human frailties, loss and pain
Keep us in want
Never enough, always too much
The hell of heaving
Infernos of inherited pride
Or careful purpose and deeds
Blessing those left
We follow their climb
When plotting our course
In darkness hides the light
Doors close in mind
I would appreciate critiques and comments on this poem.
#memories
#gladness
#dreams
#sorrows
#frailties
#hell
Written by
Marta C Weeks
F/Northern California
(F/Northern California)
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