Saturday, December 16, 2006

Persistence is the Mark of a Bad Poet


Myself Unknown To Melanie


I spoke and only sorrow heard
Words, like fresh wounds, broken
Bled

Melanie
Tended, managed
Each entrance and exit guarded
Displayed
Like a rare gem or precious art
Priceless and entombed

Was there an unplanned moment
An unscheduled smile?
From Melanie
Felt
Untouched
Precious

To what dark face do you give your pledge
Tonight, Melanie
What breast is it warms your cheek
What confidences do you speak
Unknown, even dreams can wound
Scarred and broken hearts

The Universe in balance
Each planet its orbit
Each moment its purpose
Why then sorrow?


No comments: