gate
gate
you draw rust where heat’s been;
some passage of time;
life’s clouded outcomes;
weather or not we care.
you’re iron to me; blood strength.
took years to find you;
all: frame, hinge, key, arch;
allowing passage back.
Comments
I quite like this piece Becki in all its simplicity.
Gates can mean a lot if you dwell on the role they play.
For me they are a silent witness to comings and goings. gates open conversations and shut things out. Gates opens minds. They have a history.
Nice one.
Raj
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steve pottinger
Thu 12th Oct 2017 14:03
This poem paints a beautiful picture, Becky.