Swimming in the warm spings

The requiem that lowered
my old friend into the ground
play on in my head
never escaping my memory
Looking out over dark patches
that once held life
barren now but for the twinkle
of water in moonlight,
I think of him as a boy
swimming in the warm springs,
one day to be joined there by me


This poem first appeared in The Woventale Press, June 2014.


©Daniel von der Embse

3 thoughts on “Swimming in the warm spings

  1. Beautiful reminiscing… this poem a song of missing of its own. To touch upon our earlier conversation this morning… age and also life and death happens to everyone. Or, as my aunts said at my grandmother’s funeral, “turn by turn.”

    Liked by 1 person

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