Lost

by Richard S   Feb 17, 2007


Lost

A well worn path toward destruction
Wanderings in the wilderness
Not a hike in the autumn woods
Feet in mud to the ankles

Filtered light through dying trees
No sense of direction
No fork in the road
Dead crow on the path ahead

Then a sweet smell catches the senses
Attention turns to meet a smile
A tender reassuring touch
Pulls feet from muddy pools

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Latest Comments

  • 7 years ago

    by Little Silver Pen

    I like the feeling of solitude you expressed at first. Then, there was an optimistic turn. I liked it.

    Check out some of my poems. I just realized some of your poems are like mine.

  • 17 years ago

    by Corinne

    I love the optimistic turn in the last stanza. Your poem reminded me of the many days I've spent in the woods near my home.

  • 17 years ago

    by Jeannie

    Love the feeling of solitude you expressed and were able to aleviate that feeling by finding someone to walk through life with

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