Responsive Poetry - Your Poet Is Thomas Kemp...And Me

Were You Wounded Too?

Not to far from here resting on solid rock,

an old faded red covered bridge of wood and tin.

Open top, horse drawn buggies caught in a storm

would race there for protection when rain and wind

blew at the top of trees.

Here was the safe place for protection.

When it was built, people wanted a place safe and warm.

But, where does the heart go to stop the hurt,

after torn like white bed sheets to dress the wounded?

Where do the eyes look again for warmth

after you walk away from muddy love?

I am glad we found each other.

Copyright ©2009 Thomas T. Kemp

Wounded too Many Times to Count...

Standing at the kitchen door,
Looking at the desolation of winter.
Old brown leaves clumped from the wet
Covering nearly every bed which had bloomed.
Will I get them cleaned out
Before new growth springs green again?
Alone here in the warm cabin
Only cats and kittens keep me company.
My heart is empty, void of feeling, of love.
Nowhere to go, nobody to share with--
Will I ever look into eyes filled with love?
Wounded too many times to look?
Will spring bring a time to see you again?

G.A. Bixler, 2009