The Heart of the Matter
March 26, 2009
Harvest Me


Stories of your beauty
drift down to me like ash
from a fire
I have not yet been warmed by.
Your absence only singes me,
and though I flame
at the mere mention of you,
still I remain unconsumed.

Don't you understand?
Just the wind of your walking
would be enough to release me,
your glance,
enough to wake me from my dream.

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at March 26, 2009 12:54 AM


I like it , an ultra modern poem connected to a website :) cool

Posted by: janice [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 27, 2009 09:14 PM

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Welcome to Mitch Ditkoff's blog about what's really important in this life: Peace, gratitude, love, joy, clarity, and the effort required to wake up and smell the roses. Enjoy!

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