Dried logs stacked, memories past
some split some not
ones that burn slow others fast
split with sweat and snot
Once living, now end in fire's smoke
wood chips giving, life's energy
broke with the axes stroke
to become but an ashen memory
- Author: sorenbarrett ( Offline)
- Published: October 6th, 2024 04:49
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 88
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy, arqios
Comments9
This poem should be stamped on any business that does cremation
Thanks for your read and comment yes I guess it could.
Good write SB.
Thanks so much Orchi
Superb.
Thanks Thomas
Solid and strong, Soren! Innate indelible beauty in pristine lines. So glad to chance upon it 😊
Thanks Arqios for the read. Your kind words of support are deeply appreciated
"to become but an ashen memory", kind of like us I guess. More good work here.
You are on to it my friend. Thanks so much for the read and comment
Those memories can be very important in time soren.
Andy
Thanks so much Andy I appreciate your visit my friend
It's that bloomin time of year again isn't it .. beautiful but starting to get ever so chilly .. Neville
Warming up down here and its about time. Thanks Neville for the read its appreciated. I'll throw a log on the fire for ya.
Powerful penning,
skillfully expressed indeed!! 👍
Great use of metaphor,
and my pleasure to read!!
Best regards. ✌️
Thad
Thanks so much Thad for the read and kind words they are cherrished
Great work. Enjoyed reading your lines.
I thank you for your response it is deeply valued
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