"We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing." ~George Bernard Shaw

"Look at everything as though you were seeing it either for the first or last time." ~Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn


Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Eric Alders MPP August 19, 2013



Old wooden wheels creak
Creak crossing over 
Crossing over the bridge
The bridge between life
Between life and eternity

Quiet footsteps following
Following old traditions
Old traditions deeply rooted
Deeply rooted in eternal love
Eternal love of family

~~~~~

Each week Eric Alder posts one
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9 comments:

Alex J. Cavanaugh said...

I like how each line carries over to the next.

Optimistic Existentialist said...

I love the design/form of this poem. Is there a particular name for that form?

Sandee said...

A sad day for the living and a journey we all are destined to make.

Have a terrific day Kathe. Big hugs. ☺

Kathe W. said...

Keith-I cannot for the life of me remember the name of this type of poem- every once in a while I like to use it and this image "demanded" I do so! Thanks!

Stephen Hayes said...

Bridges make such powerful metaphors, as your lovely poem so powerfully illustrates.

Eric (Bubba) Alder said...

Nice technique and fits wonderfully with the image, Kathe!

(F.Y.I. The photo was taken at Greenfield Village in Dearborn, MI)

Thanks for playing M.M.P.P.

messymimi said...

A beautiful poem to accompany what NOLA would call a first line (the line of mourners on the way to the grave, accompanied by musicians playing somber dirges).

Cheryl said...

I, too love the form of the poem with the repeating words.

Even better the them of traditions deeply rooted in love and family. So many things today are taken so lightly.

Yolanda Renee said...

Sad, but lovely at the same time. Well written, and the photo - so well combined!