IMAGE OF EARTH AND QUILL

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