Poetry

Banks of Eden

There is a place that bounds my heart.

it’s shimmering lake dances with the sun.

Earthen banks meet wind whipped wakes,

and rise to where sod grows.

A stand of trees blow in the wind,

their boughs bent over banks.

Birds play and fly; they live here,

where modern man can only dream.

Swimming in pairs or flying in flocks.

They beg food; from me.

I come here now alone,

remembering when I shared

this park, beautiful,

with another.

 

© 2017 Don Stewart