They fly in from pitch darkness,
swarming round the night light
kept on by my uncle since he was tortured
by Japanese soldiers during the war.
He, too, swarmed with others
on hands and knees, searching for light
at the end of a long tunnel,
where digging went on forever.
31 Aug 06
Rated 10 (10) by 1 users.
Inactive (0): 10
(define the words in this poem)
(648 more poems by this author)
Add A Comment:
This is awesome. I assume your uncle was in WWI? (I'm thinking of the trenches)
Line 5: (Punctuation fix) "he, too, swarmed with others" (drop that last comma)
Thanks for the spot. My uncle fought against the Japanese out in the far east during WW2. He also made the best mushroom omlettes ever.
Fantastic, moving. Symbolism used with care and craft.
Beautiful, Larry. Can I get away with not saying anything else? Great writing.
A comment from you is like being given a a precious jewel to contemplate
Larry nepotic lark
Thanks for the appreciative comment. My uncle Jim is long gone but he lives inside me still in a strange way like many others do.
Larry relative voices Lark
design & code copyright donald tetto
. all poems copyright their original authors.