Iron Mountain ski jump

Iron Mountain ski jump

Sunday, December 18, 2016

HE NEVER TOUCHED THE GROUND—a poem 12-18-16


It seems so strange to think, to know
that I was once a little boy
with muddy knees and untied shoes
hair like straw and a wary gaze

I loved him well enough but knew
not how to keep him close,
let him wander on narrow paths
mad sad hills where snares and tares
and monster lairs are daily fare

It’s hard to walk with rocks in socks

He learned that well and stepped
so lightly no one knew
he never touched the ground

JRMcF

johnrobertmcfarland@gmail.com

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