Beyond our sight

So many spirits

That once were and now

Will only be ‘once were’

Their fruit, their seeds,

Rotted and buried

Surely as last years’

Over early apples

 

 

Unlike apples

Whose seeds may somehow

Find deep-rooted luck

And brand new expression

Of their purpose

These dead, once were men,

Women and children

Can only be ‘once were’

 

 

 

© Gayle Force Press 2005

 

 

• Just me
• Poetry