Cold, I am cold, cold
straining for the sun
old, I feel old, old
tired and undone.
Talk to me of happy things:
the shift of smells that autumn brings
beaches, dunes, and whispered sands
swans and gulls and sunny lands.
Though why I ache is not quite clear
I feel much better with you near
I'm not alone when in my ear
your optimism sounds
I eagerly await the day
When all earth is in heaven's sway
and friends will never go away
and life is without bounds
But Emmy dear, it's rather clear
though nigher draws this higher day
and though I'd love to fly away
and see you where you are,
we must each take the life we make
and form it to its finest shape;
I only hope that when I wake
that love won't feel so far,
that love won't feel so far.
Kathryn, one of our youngest readers and submitters, never disappoints. This "poem" is actually a letter to a friend, written quickly, no doubt, out of a naturally flowing poetic speech. She seamlessly blends a casual letter with lofty themes, and her rhyme scheme and meter keeps pushing forward as needed, creating pauses which highlight the depth of this otherwise straightforward poem. Great poem, yet again, Katie!
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