The Man Standing...
the man standing
in the shadows,
held the earth
in his hands...
until time and storm
finally had their way.
the man standing
in the shadows,
plowed and planted,
season after season,
till winter grey
closed the last door.
the man standing
in the shadows,
built a house
and a bridge...
and swept room and porch
till it was finished.
the man standing
in the shadows,
picked up nests of straw,
and opened tiny cages,
blowing light from cupped hands
till the darkness swallowed.
the man standing
in he shadows,
played a wooden flute,
caught stardust in each note...
till the great stillness came,
and the wind stopped blowing...
the man standing
in the shadows,
still smells like you!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
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