Frederick Schardt

The Old Shore of Town

I stopped by the old shore of the town to remember my mind,

thinking of the people still existing in it, but nothing came to me,

all that could be felt was a terrible feeling of sorrow.

At the crossroads by the sea there laid

little blue and brown birds dancing by the water,

out flew memories of red fires roaring

through the long years of sitting inside the living room,

and the sad innocent hearts of my mother and father,

everything closed and draped, no discovery!

just a shrouded existence in the fog of a misty air.

What lurks down by the street heading toward

the sea is a specter of silent silver eyes that keeps me close by.