Wednesday, November 18, 2015

A dream of form in days of thought

If you don't remember, then what was the point?
Of the beginning and its ends
Of greedy hearts and tender thoughts
Of nights of moon and promise of stars
Of baby dreams and solid grounds
Of silent questions and answered kisses
Of taste of hunger and pleads for quiet
Of stolen wishes and empty verses
Of woes of gay and depths of faith
Of washed up desires and chosen poison
Of tales of burdock and minnows and elephants
Of honest haunts and bloodied silence
Of the short truth and longer shadow
Of anything from here back to the top
If you can't forget, then what was the point?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Beautiful. Loved the ebb and flow,is this contrast writing? All the lines are superb, title takes it away for me. Don't you wish you could matrix your memories. "Life is complicated" is probably simplest thing ever told. We want more of such freshness and angles.