Turn of the Century Into the Blend

DRIFTWOOD
by
Jerry Rizzi

At the edge of the stream's
modest, limited shorelines
lays debris and obstructed paths
amongst the wood chips, logs, broken branches,
Shredded bark and Fallen Trees.

Unspoken words tell of stories past and present
As a light breeze gently whispers through the standing trees

In the waters, drift wooden particles both large & small
As if wandering, looking, searching for their family tree,
there meaning, there home.

For some it is a temporary stop a visit a temporary resting place
before moving on, drifting sometimes upstream and other times downstream.

While for others it is their final destination. They have arrived.

 

 

Blue Interlude

by
Jerry Rizzi

A moments glance
looking into the mirror of a recent past
or a not so recent time

A reflection
Viewing either by choice or happenstance

Paths cross
A familiar face, A scent, A voice,
A familiar song, A familiar place

Random moments in time

For the melancholy
A daily occurrence





 

Blue Horizon
by
Jerry rizzi

To the naked eye
the earth meets the sky
A reoccuring theme
And although it is an illusion as such
they do touch, so it seems

With an anticipation
beyond the Horizon it is claimed
things will improve things will be better
like at the end of the rainbow there is a pot of gold
so it is sung so it is told
A reoccuring Theme
be there some truth
be it a dream

To the naked eye
the earth meets the sky

 

To Whom It May Concern
By
Jerry Rizzi
Down a desolate isolated roadway
Near old rusty railroad tracks, Where trains still run,
And off to the to side of a rather busy freeway
In full view stands an old abandoned structure

That once was a new beginning
A family gathering
A Home

Secrets & Stories loom behind a loose, though still upright, door
Wanting to be told while some wanting to remain silent

Window panes with broken stained glass on windowsills,
Grasping, as if for dear life to stay attached
Once the place where children would always run to looking, starring out the windows in anticipation of the arrival, of perhaps a relative, a family friend

A Crumbling porch A broken stairwell
A deck though chipped and weather stained still stands
A torn Roof A mailbox & post just outside of a half downed fence still in-tacked
Dreams forgotten, Broken promises, Dreams fulfilled, Words that did hold true

A freight train passes and as it continues into the distance
The engine's cord is pulled and the horn is sounded.
As if to an ending of a symphonic suite
with a french horn playing a single reoccurring lingering note
as it slowly fades, slowly fades


  
Driftwood has been released!    You can download the Free Booklet Now!