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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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