---

Our forebears often feel far —

behind.                                                            



But, they are felt.



In our glints

and glowers.



From their;

borrowed eyes.                                              



Succinct, glared,

sent ellipses, lent.



That sit under-

neath

brow’s descend-

ent skies.



They bear witness to

their prior points of view.



An anxious weight awaits

waves opportunal blue.



When wept, cascades,

yester swells renew.



Soothing souls

in steward’s

shields of dew.



Our forebears often feel far —  

behind.                                                          

But, they are here.



In teardrops.



Watching:



our spirit’s;



water;

borrowed eyes.                                            





© poormansdreams

---

---