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Posted by MFish

Chinook

Posted by MFish Posted on 04/23/2018 at 10:32PM Poetry See more by MFish

Out of the west last night it came,
Filled with warmth and a little rain,
And on it's crest, as it swept by,
The noises rode on the wind up high.
The doors were pounded by a spirit hand
Asking admittance, with stern demand.
But in the morning, what did we see?
The snow had vanished from field and tree.

This was written by my Grandmother, Eva Fischer, a Pioneer woman,
born in Palouse City, Washington Territory. She was truly an inspiration
for me in developing an interest in verse.

Your avatar
Loy • 04/25/2018 at 09:45PM • Like Profile

Very nice tribute to your grandmother- I see where you get your talent.

A waft of smoke
from the small fire,
with intense heat,
stoking a new desire,
to live once more,
under the bright star
and to be the man
you know you are.

Sitting around a campfire at night
the front of you is warm.
Your back is cold as ice.
Telling stories of days gone by;
embellishing as needed
to maintain the lie.

There is no comfort
in sitting here,
unless of course
the cold will disappear.

The song you sang,
I've heard before.
About a lost love,
not here anymore.
I know not of love.
I'll say it once more,
for my personal feelings
lay on the floor.
No feeling of despair .
No feeling of loss.
No feeling to care
about another person.
It's not for me
or the pain in my heart.
It is still there with thee
as my soul tears apart.

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