About Me
Thursday, February 19, 2009
On fireworks in the middle of the afternoon.
Monday, February 16, 2009
On drowning (an example of sorts?)
There’s dirt on my feet,
from trudging on the ground I revered.
You don’t have to tell me twice-
It’s not as endearing, now that I am grown.
Pick me for your table setting!
[or,
place me in the compost, if you’d prefer.]
My hands are tired of holding tight;
too tight for my fingers to respire.
My lips are so dry,
from the salty water rushing past the bridge of my nose.
Don’t worry, I see it too-
a seemingly hopeless struggle to tread above the surface of my sad excuses.
Throw me a raft!
[or,
push me towards a waterfall, if you’d prefer.]
My heart is feeling terribly heavy now-a-days,
too heavy to hang above my weary lungs.
My arms are sore and trembling,
from trying to embrace a disappearing sense of comfort.
I know, I know-
It seems I’m grasping at air with my eyes closed tightly.
Feed me a loaf of encouragement!
[or,
give me a poison apple to slay my sense of wonder.]
My attempts at grace are feeble,
too feeble for your fleeting soul to see.