Okay, so a little later than I anticipated, and a little rougher than I would have liked to put before my public, but here is another poem. Not terribly representative of where I am right now, as I wrote it back in early June, but as I look over my notebook, by far the best piece of recent work. So, that's that.
Where You Find Me
What if you were the old apple tree
the high grass
the moon in summer
the rocking chair
rain on the roof?
What would I be then?
Surely not the same old seagull
that child lost in the mall
a broken egg on the kitchen floor
the battered woman with broken teeth.
If we could get there,
to that place where
you were the stained glass picture
and I was the stub of a summertime candle
lighting you up from behind--
O, I know it!
There, everything would change.
"Nero fastened the guilt...on a class hated for their abominations, called Christians by the populace. Christus, from whom the name had its origin, suffered the extreme penalty...at the hands of one of our procurators, Pontius Pilatus, and a most mischievous superstition, thus checked for the moment, again broke out not only in Judea, the first source of the evil, but even in Rome..." --Tacitus, The Annals
About Me
- S.
- "God is a thought who makes crooked all that is straight." Friedrich Nietzsche
1 comment:
wow - i think that poem just changed my life.
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