Still Searching

Peaking over the rusted metal stands
to the leafy ground below.

In the distance, the point of a citadel
stings, as church bells ring.

The search for solid ground –
for knowing without garishly showing,
for dreaming without sleeping;

This balance that eludes
the most agile tightrope walkers.

The shadow of a guardian,
the one behind the nostalgic lens.

One day, these two will be
more than good friends.
More than just cousins.

Brothers, perhaps –
Yes, they will have
their struggles.

Red-coated anger.
Green and grey envy.

But this bond
must not be broken.

Still searching.

Poetry by Ted Boughter-Dornfeld Copyright © 2011

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Carole Boughter
    Oct 23, 2011 @ 22:06:57

    Honest. Skillfully wrought. Wow!

    Reply

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