<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=388027" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>I Wait For You....</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">i wait for you...<br>inside the hollowed ache<br>of the empty space, <br>where the stump of the willow, <br>buried by grief, testifies! <br>where the old galvanized tub, <br>wanders from yard sale to neglect; <br>where the old Ford with mismatched tires, <br>sleeps in the indignity of crushed.<br>where the outhouse walls, <br>scorched by time's fires, <br>lies strewn, charred by random fate.<br>where the cry of wetness, <br>trapped by the urn, <br>awaits ash and stardust.<br>where the manger bleeds, <br>in the cobwebbed shed; <br>one set of footprints leads away! <br>where the cock curled<br>into the bark loses, <br>all trace of form or identity.<br>where gnarled fingers tremble<br>with every step, <br>and feet no longer answer.<br>where the tongue betrays<br>the secret heart, <br>where kings go to become fools.<br>where Hemingway's shotgun, <br>in stillness by the door, <br>waits for the final curtain.<br>where god returns all prayers, <br>rubbed raw by image; <br>and the face on every stone, <br>every broken branch, yes, <br>and every fallen leaf... is yours! <br>where want drives the clock<br>through the sleep purged night, <br>and the scent of dawn is you!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Eric+Cockrell">Eric Cockrell</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=388027" data-title="I Wait For You.... de Eric Cockrell" data-description="i wait for you... inside the hollowed ache of the empty space, where the stump of the willow, buried by grief, testifies! where the old galvanized tub, wanders from yard sale to neglect; where the old Ford with mismatched tires, sleeps in th..."></div> </div> </div>

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