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Let This Be My Last Look

Kenneth has a taste for abstract/prose poetry as well as the comical side of life. 23-years of writing for a newspaper has served him well.


I'm eating a beggar's meal and happy right now

The nectar of my mother's love is close by my table

I have an urge to look one last time

To see if "he" is making his way from his to mine

Reaper 'tis said, has no heart, no soul, or head

Escaping the sickle a task not met

A wandering soul is his to get

But the clouds so white, quiet and waving

A song to me as I walk in my own shadow

Reminds me of my birth and span as a girl

Learning things that life will teach

Ne'er complaint nor sour my wine

Fetching *his shoes that in his cloak will twine

Oh, my darling, my love of yonder hill of blue

My dream of looking

My dream of leaving

Will by moments, come true

I finally look and see you standing

A hungered for my warmth and face

Winds cease blowing as I am going

. . . past the moment of looking one last time

White soul black heart

White soul black heart

© 2016 Kenneth Avery

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