The rain falls upon her shoulders
We long for the measure to form
Cancer
Quietly leaning
Hoping its measure
Look for silver belonging
The only
Echoes
Empty pleasure rippled dusty
Really quite beautiful she says
Her hair matted
Her mouth full of spit
The sky is lilting
The truth is walking away
Speckled thin
The fruits ripen
Our soul is turning
Tighten our belts
If we lie very still
I can picture the horses
My spine is crumbling
But there is Alice
My friend when all I lost.
The horses must be a comfort.....such peaceful creatures. This poem sounds very sad, my friend. "The sky is lilting. The truth is walking away...Our soul is turning." I am glad Alice is standing by, and am sending you some hope for happier days.
ReplyDeleteThis is such a melancholic piece from you Jae. Every line seems to weep tears. I want to wrap you up in my arms when I read words like this.
ReplyDelete