A Taste Of Going

The glamor of the sun on old tin roofs.
I wonder why the moment seems so lost?
Long shadows follow summer into time.
The taste of going is the taste of wine.

How intricate to trace rhythmical moves
Into the deepening dusk of old.lost loves.
West has become the circle of our suns.
Friend, light itself will see the patterns home.

Previously published, Skylark, Purdue University Calumet

by Sandra Fowler

Comments (49)

A poet dies just like other ordinary persons BUT he becomes immortal WITH his poems, because poems never die, they survive all things and become immortal. Excellent Poem, I so admire. Thank you for sharing.
I read a few poems, but my attention was again drawn to this one. As Frost said 'I have miles to go before I sleep'.
A novel birthday poem coming from a unique pen, abd agree, going on is another name for life.
to nature flows its ever lasting cycles, a good poem from a great poets +++++
Gajanan, I believe that your birth poem will propel you into many great futures. A multitude of birthdays! ! ! ! ! !
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