The Track

I walk along the twisted track.

Falling leaves touch my face.

Fingers of coolness.

I whistle a happy song.

I see an object up ahead.

The brown camera I’d left on my bed.

I pick it up; I have a look.

It was only a picture of me,

As I walked along the twisted track,

Falling leaves touching my face,

A slight breeze lifting my hair.

I called her name “Alex?”

Was she here or round the bend?

My sister was doing just as I.

Falling leaves touch her face.

Fingers of coolness.

A slight breeze lifting her hair.

I looked left to right.

Where could she be?

I noticed a ribbon on a flowery bush.

On leaning over to pick it up,

The ground gave way and I fell.

Down into the mine shaft.

The breeze left at the top.

I landed with a heavy heart,

To the bottom and heard a cry.

The falling leaves kept falling.

My sister looking up at the sky.

She broke my fall as she called my name.

I turned and held her tight.

“Oh sister, oh sister I hurt so much!”

My special sister cried.

I whistled a song we sang as children.

I watched her slowly die.

I walk along the twisted track.

Falling leaves touch my face

Fingers of coolness.

A slight breeze lifts my hair.

I whistle a sad, sad song.

 

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4 Responses to The Track

  1. What a beautiful, heart-wrenching poem. It took me away to a sad place, but I found it enchanting nonetheless.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thanks so much for reading and your comment Vashti. It made me sad too when I wrote the poem.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Thanks again Vashti. Yes, I do plan on writing more. I write when something comes to me, and when I have time. I’ve started a new poem which I hope to finish this week. 🙂

    Like

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