gong and clang and hi-hat hiss
palm heel slap, and fingers drum
my hand slides down,
I make the metal handrail sing
from rail to rung
some bad world music rhythm king
I crown myself, as I walk down
the steep decline -
this was our walk,
I'm walking down without you now
the river runs with slanted light
the railroad bridge -
that spans the gap from cliff to cliff
- is painted gold and rose,
and all between is mapped
by memories of every path we walked
the quaint and painted ways,
in lines that crossed and overlapped
a thousand days
in this gay seaside village town.
Like postcards from a kinder year
- though I am bitter from the end,
I can't help write: "Wish you were here."
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years. Try the RANDOM button to sample the sometimes surprising breadth of quality (and in several Novembers, breathtaking quantity as well), or click the "ANY GOOD" label* for those poems labeled with it. On any poem, old or new, feel free to offer your remarkable insight or critical acumen.
*I haven't yet revisited many pockets and stretches of time to appraise and label the "any goods," so some are missing. Please feel free to point out omissions, or - especially - erroneous inclusions, in comments.