Exerpt
Poetry - Maybe
by
A. MacDarragh Burke, MD
Mexican Sunset
Her little hand crept into mine
Her eyes with wonder filled.
We stood there with our hands entwined,
Ignored the evening chill.
"Granddad" she said, "Look at the sky
It's burning like a fire.
Could it fall down and could we die?"
She was right to inquire.
Red rolling cotton balls of cloud
To the horizon filled
The sky with colors bright and loud
That on the ocean spilled.
The sea, that through the day was blue,
Was now vermilion.
Its wrinkled surface changed its hue
New-painted by the sun.
Two generations side by side
Stood quiet upon the strand,
And one with God at eventide
I held her little hand.
A. MacDarragh Burke, MD