Generations

Souls of peace –
Silken lace and World War dreams.
Can I give a bit of thought?
The quarter turns and leaves are gone.

Silence speaks –
Christmas past and graves have grown.
Where’s the blood we loved in life?
The time has shifted yet again.

Dripping light –
Hope that spills in timeless death.
Who shall carry on our love?
The soil, children, trees, and stars.

11.2.19

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Author: Nathaniel West Clark

Aspiring Poet

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