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Those long shadows pointed the way
she walked with the baby in her arms
and refused my help
I said we’d never make it there before dark
but she knew better

Those long shadows pointed the way
we sat a while by the side of the road
and drank our water
We ate from paper bags we’d carried since morning
and soon moved again

Those long shadows pointed the way
I can still hear the baby crying
I knelt in the dirty water
and stroked her fair head while the ground turned
and the sky turned black

© Don Heisz 2013


Todays featured poem is by Don Heisz. In this piece Don conjures up an image that is both dark and personal. It speaks of tragedy, loss and memory, weaving a tale which draws the reader in and leaves an impression far long after being read. Well constructed, with a good use of meter, this is a truly accomplished piece by Don.


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