Monday
April 09, 2012
I know, not living up to the "Poem a Day" attitude I'm trying to lay on myself... but... I don't know... things sometimes weigh me down too much... hard to even just get out of bed... get to the computer to write... the good thing is... those days shackled to such gray thoughts... always have a way of inspiring some kind of poetry... good or bad.
The Weeping Fig
The leaves of the Weeping Fig
lament the onset of another endless dark.
They weep and weep away all evening long,
why? Well, I’m not sure, they never say
why they prefer to cry the night and not the day.
Perhaps, the emptiness they mourn
seems frivolous when sunlight’s born.
Perhaps they cannot find the tears
to spare when the dawning calms the fears
that their mother moon appears to clamor for.
Or perhaps it’s just me and not the tree
that weeps away the hours spent alone
without the shadow of a friend; a soul
drifting toward an infinite black hole
that my tiny hands will never fill.
—rrw 4-9-12
No comments:
Post a Comment