Husk
shucked from the kernels,
too stubborn
to return
to dust.
Sawdust
on the taproom floor
makes it sweepable
at the end of the day.
Sunlight
drifts through the window
illuminates the wall
except where shadows fall.
08 Wednesday Apr 2020
Posted poems
inHusk
shucked from the kernels,
too stubborn
to return
to dust.
Sawdust
on the taproom floor
makes it sweepable
at the end of the day.
Sunlight
drifts through the window
illuminates the wall
except where shadows fall.
good to read you, Ron ~
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s good to read you again Ron. I interpreted this as three poems that are extended metaphors for different periods in life – youth, middle age and old age. I could be wrong though. This is my new blog btw. It’s private right now. Please request access if you wish to read my work.
-Nitin
LikeLiked by 1 person
Brilliant.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Bravo
LikeLiked by 1 person
So good to see your words again, my friend.
LikeLiked by 1 person