Which of my yearnings,
which of my urges
did you leave to me,
old man?
Which of these ghosts
that inhabit my history
did you leave behind as a legacy?
Why were you such a quiet man,
storing and hording your words
your thoughts
and never sharing?
I used to be afraid of you
when I was a small boy,
then fear gave way to curiosity.
You were always a mystery.
Even today I remain unsure,
and your lips sealed forever.

by W.I. Stoneberger

Other poems of STONEBERGER (73)

Comments (1)

Nothing is happening for no reason and in this case most probably this way it is. Beautiful, reflective poem. I am afraid but... is winning the curiosity... it is so real. Very much I like your writing but this poem peculiarly. In the free time I will be coming back to your poetry. I thank :) - 10 v. real :) Maria Barbara Korynt