by Uriel Tovar
The wind talks of nothing
But the essence of your hair
Tumbled in my thoughts
Slicing through these notes
Do -- you
Name of this song?
All you need to know.
March steadily to you
--I'm falling now.
Grab my hand
Before the notes turn sour
The 6th measure is
The final one.
Posted on 12/04/2004
Copyright © 2020 Uriel Tovar
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Ava Blu on 12/05/04 at 12:34 AM|
Very lovely poem. =)
|Posted by Alicia Vann on 12/05/04 at 08:18 AM|
I echo the sentiments, lovely. I need to find that place where I can write lovely poems again. I miss it. I enjoyed this.
|Posted by Shonda Creemer on 12/08/04 at 01:01 AM|
It is really tender, but kinda melancholy. I love it.
|Posted by Sarah Graves on 12/08/04 at 10:38 PM|
There is some kind of gentle sadness to this piece, very effective for the reader.
|Posted by Ava Blu on 12/09/04 at 05:09 AM|
This is my favorite of yours. It is a bit sad though. I would love to know the inspiration behind it! =)
|Posted by Melina Raven Maness Diebold on 12/15/04 at 08:41 PM|
So soft and wiltingly nostalgic. Suits my mood today too.