Memories
The old man reaches, wrinkled and gray, towards the sunset on that beautiful day.
The sounds of long ago filled his head, his eyes are closed, feeling heavy as lead.
A single tear courses down his cheek, because for him to live, there was less than a week.
He had returned to his hometown, to find his long lost love, when he found she had gone, he felt a lone dove.
He felt that this was the very end, in his rivers life, the final bend.
His eyes open wide and see wonderful things, things of the past, forgotten scenes.
foghorns herald the inbound food, the fishermans return lightens all moods.
In that bay on that beautiful day,the old man dies, no longer wrinkled and gray.
Author notes
Hey, this is the first poem I have ever wrote, and i have a few stories too, so check them out (please)
Written June 25th, 2006
What did you think
Comments
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niiice
heeeeyyy u stole my title!!! lol its really good though but wats with the "lone dove" thing, i dont get it...
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