What a Life is for?
Hoof prints on the forest floor, I wondered what a life is for.
Family cemetery in the clearing, headstone with a lamb, infant daughter, 1934.
I couldn’t help but to wonder, whats a life for?
To hold what you cannot keep, to weep in the night, a mother in the moonlight, generations ago. Wondering, perhaps, what this is all for; I walked along, the forest floor.
4 thoughts on "What a Life is for?"
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Nice! Haunting.
Very moving.
You’ve written a truly beautiful, touching poem, Philip!
Very nice. Evocative.