I distrust
the lessons I’ve sussed
like cigarette butts,
gum wrappers and foil
pulled from the tangles
of trampled-on grass
or a susurrus
overheard
in the suspect dusk.
francis, Lessons are like passing trains...you wish to get on a few..and some you just want to see go by ...."a susurrus overhead in the suspect dusk"....this right here is a haiku of sorts..a beautiful one at that....it gives you mystery,fright and hope all in one...this is how jack kerouac might have written it...great work as always....
Manik, I think there's an excellent poem in your metaphor of the passing trains. I hope you'll write it :). And I'm very flattered by the comparison to Kerouac.
2 comments:
francis,
Lessons are like passing trains...you wish to get on a few..and some you just want to see go by ...."a susurrus overhead in the suspect dusk"....this right here is a haiku of sorts..a beautiful one at that....it gives you mystery,fright and hope all in one...this is how jack kerouac might have written it...great work as always....
Manik, I think there's an excellent poem in your metaphor of the passing trains. I hope you'll write it :). And I'm very flattered by the comparison to Kerouac.
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