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Thursday, December 20, 2012

the walk

commencing this
Journey? path walk, destination
in a place that will be the same
place I and Mine

Where you and yours may
to some day get
the solute
bang bang
bag pipes and trumpets
a flag just so

The grass green
sights laid out just
so so so
morbidly preening
that spot is a better
place to sit for a long, long

sleep aludes me
so I trod the well worn paths
where my children play
jumping from stone
to stone...writing all over the place
brings lives pinpoints times
magnifies how csprecious
fickley fate can be

Chris, McQueeney

Brian has asked us  to take a walk, for dVerse poets pub. Aross from my house is a cemetary...the kids love it, and a small scar forms as I read the children's stones. I actually want a traditional Indian above groud  buirial, or a ground level rock carn..leave my  my remans to feed the animals...they fed me long enough


Brian Miller said...

i tred the path where my children play....i love that bit man...there is a bit of whimsy there...and well my friend, travel well...

A Cuban In London said...

Thanks for taking me along on your walk. Would you believe it? I was also jumping from stone to stone! :-)

Greetings from London.

Charity Parkerson said...

Very powerful, Chris.

She Writes said...

I hope the sleep that alludes you resting there will do so for a very long time.

Ben Ditty said...

But if you aren't buried deep enough people will steal your body and fondle it.

On another note: great poem ;-)

kj said...

hi chris! where have i been? well, tis the season: maybe buried myself :^)

i wouldn't mind either if my remains were nourishment for some other animal. but i leave that to my family to mourn my illustrious loss in whatever way they prefer

you are a good poet. do you know it?

love love