The Settlement

Hustle and bustle,
scenes of airport,
cars, places, and faces,
linger.

The crashing metal,
pain, healing,
all dwarfed,
by losing you.

Those memories,
seem like part
of another life,
belonging,
to someone else.

Free of debt,
a hummingbird nest egg,
in hand,
I ponder yardstick,
measures of worth,
measures of self.

But for your smile,
I would give them all.

The song
of your voice
resonates
in the wind.



Poetry by Bruce Sommer
Read 744 times
Written on 2008-06-28 at 21:15

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