Guest Poet Linda Freeman
ANGLE IN MY EYES
When-ever I look in a mirror,
I see my Dad
My eyes are the same color that He had
When I look at my Son,
He's there again
Joes eyes are as bright as his were then
Wether filled with laughter,
or wet with tears,
My Dads eyes are with us,
as if he were here
When He left this world,
we said our good-bys,
now my Dad is an Angel
in my eyes
October 1997
Linda Freeman's Questions:
Do I have 0-10 talent for writing?
Is this poem too childish in context?
Correspond with Linda Freeman at
JRP1997@aol.com
with your ideas about this poem.
The Albany Poetry Workshop