04-30-2015, 02:10 PM
Along the tide line, driftwood
throws shadows from sunset’s slanting light
writing names in a dead language,
conjuring up the lost.
Isaac and Jessica
play on the sand.
The grandfather they never met
soars overhead trailing flight feathers,
his father looks up from the milking,
his grandfather watches from shadows
in the forest. his great grandfather waves
from the black-sailed ship in the shallows
setting out for somewhere else yet unknown.
Phew. It's over. Thanks Milo and all who took part.
throws shadows from sunset’s slanting light
writing names in a dead language,
conjuring up the lost.
Isaac and Jessica
play on the sand.
The grandfather they never met
soars overhead trailing flight feathers,
his father looks up from the milking,
his grandfather watches from shadows
in the forest. his great grandfather waves
from the black-sailed ship in the shallows
setting out for somewhere else yet unknown.
Phew. It's over. Thanks Milo and all who took part.