I look at the pictures of us, and it's like looking at a paper graveyard.
The smiles, so frozen in time, so distant and temporary.
My memories are of cut flowers,
laid at the altar of us.
Bright and then fading, losing petals
like prayers scattered over fresh earth.
Your eyes have lost their shine in my mind.
I can barely taste you on my tongue.
My mouth starves at your garden.
As time slips away, the pain becomes like
an old rusty machine
on an abandoned farm.
We disintegrate and decompose.
A gentle thundering rain swallows us
in hazy downpouring sheets.
But a new life is carried
through turbulent groundwater currents.
A sprout, seeking root on fertile ground,
where fleeting moments of new joy
will be captured again and again.
And through the death of the old,
we embrace the birth of the new.
Aug 9, 2021
Aug 9, 2021 at 11:07 AM UTC
I look at the pictures of us, and it's like looking at a paper graveyard.
The smiles, so frozen in time, so distant and temporary.
My memories are of cut flowers,
laid at the altar of us.
Bright and then fading, losing petals
like prayers scattered over fresh earth.
Your eyes have lost their shine in my mind.
I can barely taste you on my tongue.
My mouth starves at your garden.
As time slips away, the pain becomes like
an old rusty machine
on an abandoned farm.
We disintegrate and decompose.
A gentle thundering rain swallows us
in hazy downpouring sheets.
But a new life is carried
through turbulent groundwater currents.
A sprout, seeking root on fertile ground,
where fleeting moments of new joy
will be captured again and again.
And through the death of the old,
we embrace the birth of the new.
Iris and I co-wrote this together. It was a real pleasure to work with her.
Check out my you tube channel where I read my poetry from my recently published book, Seedy Town Blues, available on Amazon.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1khU1Mo5AKE
Brand new video.
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