What Remains

by Philip F De Pinto

What remains
of what once fit
snugly in place
like a slap
in your face
of the mortar
which once held
stones in place

The hair on such stones
perfectly combed
mussed by a brusque wind
to which one does not
wail or confess

Coiffured and stacked
along a country road
that bode not well
for neighborliness

A wall in disarray
miles from debate
to demarcate
work from play
them from us


Posted on 05/02/2017
Copyright © 2021 Philip F De Pinto

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 05/04/17 at 12:23 AM

Evocative write, Philip. Great visuals add to the cerebral foundation.

Posted by Michele Schottelkorb on 05/25/17 at 09:51 PM

What remains... A gaggle of embraces is precisely what is needed---It has been a long time, dear one. Glad this was the first stop I made.

Posted by Kris Mara on 06/08/17 at 01:39 PM

...heavy as that gravity and your voice rings clear and true throughout this...gravity and a gaggle of true...and days like this seems so far away (for what I read into your words)...good to read you again...

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