Tour (poem)

The bodies of my mother and father

have broken down by now,

I am sure.

They are becoming part of the Earth,

part of the world.

My mother,

with her high forehead,

and her wide smile.

My father,

with his close eyes,

and his big heart.

 

They're sailing around the sun

with us,

and with all those who came before us —

including the beauties winging through the trees

and the critters crawling from the waters 

on this,

our baffling, magical tour

Filed under: Art and Culture, Poetry

Tags: poetry

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