By Francis Scudellari
A simple question: If,
One morrow's treading fate
Falls heavy footed down,
What, sake lost, would we leave?
A fatted bloody splotch,
Full-heart blackened, soot stain …
By downpours, not rinsed clean;
E'en one million cycles
Or withered husks, empty
Love drained, desiccated …
By blasted sand cast off;
Dust mites fore-Time's brushed hands
4 comments:
My friend, what a great poem. You would truly give competition to Keats if he was still alive today. Excellent. A cut far above the rest. Well done.
~JD
PS. 1Verse has accepted and has been formally welcomed by me into the Society. Thank you for bringing another talented artist into the fold.
Thanks as always JD. Keats huh? That's heady company. I'm glad 1verse is in the fold. The group is shaping up nicely.
So were you foreseeing the result of the Ohio primary with this one. ;0
Hi Cooper,
Yeah ... I had a bad feeling about Ohio. I just hope TX can salvage the night, but what are the odds of that :(.
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