Post by Pseudomuse on Apr 24, 2005 21:24:53 GMT -8
i'm not sure what I was thinking when I wrote this. I seems a little choppy but I haven't got the brain power to do much with it now so I thought I'd get it out there first.
PM
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Morning Thoughts
The crisp and snowy morning brought back
All those memories of long ago
Of white satin bows and daffodils
Of church yards filled with song and
Baby ducks in the far pond
But none of them brought back much to warm
My frostbit toes
No emotions stirred any thing close to an itch
And my booted feet crush the tiny snowflakes that land feverishly in my path
And I think I see the lake we once skated on
From here I see Death
On the far side of the pond
Which wasn't there at first
For I couldn't see it in the bright light
This is death
Remembrances I no longer take pleasure in
The feelings that no longer come
The knowledge that this stagnant existence is all you'll ever get
It's as if Emily Dickinson sold my heart out to the cheepest bidder
And my mind followed
That death is a person and no longer idea
And all those memories of long ago
Rather than give life give a sense of loss
In nature, as She so put it
Everything becomes so much clearer
PM
---------------------------------------
Morning Thoughts
The crisp and snowy morning brought back
All those memories of long ago
Of white satin bows and daffodils
Of church yards filled with song and
Baby ducks in the far pond
But none of them brought back much to warm
My frostbit toes
No emotions stirred any thing close to an itch
And my booted feet crush the tiny snowflakes that land feverishly in my path
And I think I see the lake we once skated on
From here I see Death
On the far side of the pond
Which wasn't there at first
For I couldn't see it in the bright light
This is death
Remembrances I no longer take pleasure in
The feelings that no longer come
The knowledge that this stagnant existence is all you'll ever get
It's as if Emily Dickinson sold my heart out to the cheepest bidder
And my mind followed
That death is a person and no longer idea
And all those memories of long ago
Rather than give life give a sense of loss
In nature, as She so put it
Everything becomes so much clearer
