He pleads
Do not forsake
Cold air to
The mantelplace
Each patterned tile
Memories upon
The cold hearth
Has death begun ?
The black iron
That cradled coal
Now pierces
His very soul
Its twisted frame
In silent voice
Aging hands
Grasping choice.
A special form
Of loneliness
Wraps his frame
Without a kiss
Its cold indifference
Empathy aloof
As smoke which left
Via chimneys shute.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Online) - Published: July 26th, 2026 03:19
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Online)
Comments2
That's a sad tale.
As the fire dies so does a man, thanks for read always much appreciated
What a wonderful metaphor. I remember well at my grandfather's house the fireplace and the cast-iron poker, coal shuttle and iron coal stove in the kitchen.
" Without a kiss
Its cold indifference
Empathy aloof
As smoke which left
Via chimneys shute."
These lines hit me hardest. How true and graphic. Nicely done my friend
thanking you always appreciated friend
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