Three Generations

Three generations of men
One whose sun dips in the purple hues of evening
Another watches his sun arc lower in the late afternoon
While the youngest feels the bold, bright rays of the morning light
They work together, yet each lives in their own time
Together they are painted into a familial tapestry
woven with the alizarin crimson thread
of their own blood

Picture and words by The Bison in the Woods (c) 2016


4 thoughts on “Three Generations

  1. You’ve painted such a deep picture with the short poem. The bond of male bloodline and life stages is powerful and felt but it also feels very archetypal , like the male version of maiden/mother/crone…


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