Impressions Poem by Louise Marie DelSanto

Impressions


And when the music played..

I cried for all that has been this past year,

for all that is, and all that remains.

Sometimes there is something within our being that we keep silent.

It is this silence that stirs our heart a little when we allow.

I thought of my father today when the last wind of daylight rushed through the trees

when the piled up orange leaves stacked against the house and bush dared to remain

upon the still green grass of Summer

And I thought of how time is so very fickle. It makes impressions deepen with desire

And yet to meet lovers weep when the music slows before the last breath of time.


lmdelsanto
november 9,2008