Poetry ● Poet Poem ● Rhyme ● Verse ● Limerick ● Ode ● Prose ● Story ● Anecdote
The story behind the poem ● Free sign-up
Have you written a poem for the world to read?

Poem and Poet
~ From your works shall you be known ~

Animals Dreams Family History Homes Humor Love
Myth Names People Pets Philosophy Places Plants
Real life Seasons Sorrow Sport Travel
Order a poem Advertise with us Submit a poem Respond to a poem Feedback Poetry material Sitemap

Sitting outside on a spring afternoon

To the birds
Calling out the names
Of the long forgotten dead.

What flowers hold those secrets
Of the tenants before us
I ask the ants,
Trailing behind one another.
They look so wise.

How would I know
This moment hasn't happened before?
Because I swear that wind
Has touched my arm
The same way
As it did just now.

Those sweeping limbs
And hot blue sky
I will never remember.

Like the secrets
Within the buds of many unattended flowers,
This memory will disappear
Upon the earth's soil.


by Micayla Dunlap

Read the story behind this poem

Vote For My Site!

Visit my Italy blog

All content is the property of either Damaris West or the poem's author as appropriate and may not be reproduced in any way without their written permission.
Home page | Sitemap | Feedback Form | Add to favorites | Submit a poem | Respond to a poem
Useful links | About the webmaster | Privacy promise | Poem and Poet | Favorite poems | Link to me
A brief history of poetry | Day of the week for the date | Advertise with us | Poetry material

Commission a poem

~ Poem and Poet ~