End of the Line

Then I
Generations of our forebears
Passing the baton of life divine

Genetic inheritance
Recycling of a kind
Teaching what was
That it may survive

But your bells they chimed
And I hold no child’s hand
When I visit your shrine

I loved you
I will love you beyond time
Our goodbyes were sweet agony
A tidal bore


I am of your tear
I shed mine
Of no substance this bore
I am the end of the line

About Sue McKay

Loving life as I boldly go where I've never been before. I'm a writer, photographer, greeting card designer and business owner of Kick It To Me Enterprises who has grand visions involving my Nikon, some surfers and my blog.

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