Prints

sorenbarrett

A tiny footprint, in cement,

A finger smudge, on my glasses,

A mark of time, gone by

I reach for a cloth, to wipe it off

The foot now grown

Has moved on

 

You'll remember me,

In the scent of broken ground

You'll see me,

In the sprouting of seeds

You'll feel me,

In your stomach now filled

 

Where ever I have touched

I have left a part of me,

Footprints,

Some wiped away,

Some in broken ground,

Others in cement

  • Author: sorenbarrett (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 1st, 2023 04:48
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 14
  • Users favorite of this poem: arqios, L. B. Mek
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Comments +

Comments4

  • arqios

    Beautiful both in sentiment and articulation! Good one Soren!

    • sorenbarrett

      Thank you Cryptic, this one was just floating inside me somewhere and had to come out.

    • Doggerel Dave

      To remind me of my DNA spread everywhere is salutary, Soren - I AM part of the universe. A piece which provoked thought in me.....

      • sorenbarrett

        Thanks Dave don't mean to provoke but sometimes I do. Thanks for the read and comment.

      • thinkerbell

        Beautifully worded...you've cemented your ideas very well 🥰

        • sorenbarrett

          Thank you, for your kind words and review.

        • L. B. Mek

          When reading your brilliant words
          I couldn't help but be reminded
          of Walt Whitman's poignant words:
          'I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun,
          I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.

          I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
          If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.'
          (from Song of myself, 52
          https://poets.org/poem/song-myself-52
          )
          Just amazing
          how favourably, your poetry
          compares
          to the work
          of one of the greatest Poet's
          dear Poet
          just a privilege to read, thank you!

          • sorenbarrett

            Dear L.B. you humble me beyond belief, to be compared to Whitman is a great compliment which I as a mere whittler of words feel I do not deserve but is so greatly appreciated. Your kind and generous words are greatly appreciated.



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