Sunday, October 23, 2011

The Field
Three boys ran in the tall summer grass,
They were ten, and laughed loudly as they scurried unseen
It was late, near bed time
The boys knew this, and hoped for mothers as the sheltering sky
To be men would take forever to these young scurrying lives
But in the flash of their mothers' eyes:
One boy would go off to war and never return
Another would lose a brother and never be the same
The third would be fine, grow into a man with happiness and fame
But there were those times when he thought of tall summer grass,
Of how the tragedy of youth was woven into his soul
And he too, was never the same


Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...


Old Ollie said...

Someday I want to head back out into that tall grass.

Dave King said...

A very moving tale convincingly told.

Anonymous said...

Life can sure take its toll. I love the title of this.


Andy said...

Visiting from The Poetry Pantry.

Poignant & heartfelt write.
Thanks for sharing.

Undress Me With Your Sultry Eyes

Morning said...

reflective write, each and every one of us are different.

Morning said...

touching story eloquently delivered here.

keep it up.

welcome joining us.