Friday, October 4, 2013


artwork used by permission of Catrin Welzstein
in association with d'Verse Poets
I am gone, and this goes on

You have your smoke

The girls talk quietly about their lives

I am not here, but this goes on

Up and down the yard

The children run

Juliet picks flowers

As the sun begins to fade

Someone clears the plates

This goes on and I am gone

The way your smoke dissipates above,

Gone the way of dandelion fuzz.


  1. Yeah it is like that at the passing for them left behind. i wonder sometimes how long will the dandelion be remembered when they are n conquerors or kings.

  2. really interesting progression in this.....its easy to see all the life going on around you...identifying with the smoke and the dandelion....i can feel the emptiness....

  3. This captures that phenomenon exactly - how odd that all the ordinary things still happen when we're gone...

  4. And yet, the dandelion is such a symbol for continuity. And life! Beautiful poem!

  5. Life has to move on no matter what. Lovely expressions!!

  6. life moves on... sometimes not noticing you as it passes... lovely poem... it hit home I must admit...