The man traveled the long worn avenues
Where many the people had left mem'ries
and the little hearts littered the green trees.
But the day wore on and the night bird coos.
The old man moved alone to spread the news
And tell the moon the people's stories
As he sang along with the quiet breeze
So thier memory the people now lose.
As the man lives after the life of those
Who now lay silent in the ground where
The lives of their young successors rose
And again the man wanders the streets fair
As people live and a memory grows
But the man comes singing without a care.
Author notes
Petrachan Sonnet. That simple.
Written January 27th, 2006
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Excellent job with this unique piece you've penned here within your poetic heart sweet soul.
I so appreciate you sharing with me, and may you keep these wonderful works flowing like the river of whispers in your soul. Much love, Timothy~ 
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