The Inner Self

A child came knocking:
“Hello? Are you there?”
The man inside listened,
“I think I am here.”
He thought so hard he
Opened both mouth and door.

There stood the child
“Can you see who I am?”
The man looked intently,
“I’m not sure I can.”
An outstretched hand
Conveyed him to move.

Snow swirled around them;
“Find joy in the cold.”
A blizzard of beauty;
“There is hope for the old!”
A distant memory
Brought a tear to the eye.

© Jeremiah Dowling 2016

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About Jeremiah Dowling

I write poetry and take crazy pictures in an Orange Chair all over the United States while reading amazing books.

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