Poetics Aside Prompt:Write a deep poem. The deep end of the pool. Six feet deep. Archaeology. Whatever you write, just dig deep.
While I sleep
Somewhere beneath
The shade of memory
In that dark deep
Pulses the seed
Of my descendant’s tree
So it goes
A moments flows
From one into another
The little girl
With bouncing curl
Too soon becomes a mother
The earth reclaims
All but our names
The soul is never buried
And while we sleep
In umber deep
Our soul to God is carried
© Janet Martin
Across the road from us there is a historical site: a plot of grave-markers dating back to the mid-1800's.
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!