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Pastimes : Calling all SI Poets -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: epicure who wrote (1190)	11/29/1997 2:28:00 AM
From: Abner Hosmer	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 2095

Busy street corner light changes green I walk down the street and back standing as the crowd passes by wondering how I came to be so lost Morning dawns familiar greetings from the unfamiliar streets below I'll roll over one more time lay back as silence bathes the traffic seeping through my window and enjoy a fleeting memory of you

To: epicure who wrote (1190)	11/29/1997 1:35:00 PM
From: O'Hara	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 2095

><>...Thanks alexa, and Ditto...><> Have a good day Shalom...><>

To: epicure who wrote (1190)	11/30/1997 12:16:00 PM
From: Rambi	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 2095

Thanksgiving in the Woods This week I walked in silent, snowy woods, Awoke before a glowing fire to gaze out at trees Draped in elegant ermine and covered in diamonds, And sang around a bonfire of primitive proportion, While the children danced spider shadows around us. Our fingers cold on the frets, our voices, smoke- husky, Soothed by drinks frozen from their beds in the snow. Music from years that live now only in our memories, Dreams from youth now grown old as we. This week I walked in silent, snowy woods, And lifted my face to the cold lace Embroidering the trees swaying over me, And I took the hand of my child, When he wondered about his life And where it would lead. Your heart will tell you the way, I said. While the wind whipped away our voices And stole the feeling from our fingers And I listened to the silence in my soul. A pond, milkwhite, invited. He steped out eagerly and I wondered As I timidly tossed pebbles on the surface And searched for a strong stick With which to save him, should he fall through, If my heart still knows the way. He called me, laughing, sliding, And I tossed the stick aside and stepped out too. And we slipped from one end to the other He, jumping to test what the ice will bear, I, thinking about what lies beneath. This week I walked in silent, snowy woods, And in the stillness of those hours, In the quiet of that time I try to hear again the beating of my heart.