This poem expresses loss, a foal that was with me for just a brief time. Birth, life, and then disappointment, the one we do not control and like untimed deaths, hurt with a "forever", in the memories of our story. This is the pain that for us rests un-answered.

A Great Wrong

One before the last,
blow by blow felt
not to pass, bugle loud, stick or rope,
this life that casts stands upon us.
Oh! We have found release,
the wings there and there
but where
have the ends need meet.
And if they shall,
will grief sleep
a quiet gloom
in the tall heather
or lie on the side of a hill,
sit with rain
so to forget
Perhaps not this,
a great wrong
that looked in
for gain and pleasure
for mother kindliness
to have love leap from us
in a sonnet, the lullaby
of our time with quietude and a quiver.
This fast world
in a hush cold air of...Y.

 B. Garth Steinhagen



Submitted: July 06, 2014

© Copyright 2022 B Garth Steinhagen. All rights reserved.

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B Garth Steinhagen

Yes, it always will move with me...

Sun, July 6th, 2014 11:43pm

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