I look into the window,
as I see that instrument,
It speaks to me, it speaks and sings,
of my time, a time long since forgotten,
forgotten like the summer breeze,
forgotten as the musky scent.
I am taken, taken by my soul,
along the rail,
which I once travelled.
My time in India, so long ago,
like a mother it was,
gave me comfort in my need.
Now I am older,
not as mountains...
still not young.
I smile and a tear falls,
as I walk away.
A contest entry
- Picture inspired something intense.... by Starswhispers.
600 points, ended February 26, 2008, 5 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
A sweet take on the picture I enjoyed the reference to India well done. Thank you so much for your entry.
Adding your comment:
