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nat-lipstadtPoems
Sandy Hook: When the Fates Allow... December and the replay endless: **"From now on our troubles will be miles away, Here we are as olden days, Happy golden days are yours, Faithful friends who are dear to us, Gather near to us once more. Through the years we'll all be together, If The fates allow"** This careless, unguarded atmosphere, This season...this irony... Grief besotted, Secret-weeper, Days/hours-hours, now months later. All of us perishable, all of us diminished. Days pass, anguish angry persists, the bitter herb remorse greater grows, You, devil, in the details, The fates don't easy permit to let Time succor sorrow to leave. All of us, joined, hand holding, The living and passed, In the valley of dried bones Where dreams-dismembered, Rivers  of desperate-dismay Turned aside and And on that day when: The breath of the fresh fates Wash and bleach with great tenderness, The evil put upon the broken bones. The shrouded shadows of the valley, Bent, banished, sundered, yet now, Surrendering to the only Immutable law of human emotion, A hopeful voice. For the radio reminds us! T'is the season to remember Our peculiar, American anthem, Faithful friends who are dear to us, Gather near to us once more, Through the years we'll all be together, Not if never if but when, Please! When the fates allow. Dec. 22, 2012 Updated: June 8, 2013
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Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 4:03 PM UTC
Sandy Hook: When the Fates Allow...
Sandy Hook: When the Fates Allow... December and the replay endless: **"From now on our troubles will be miles away, Here we are as olden days, Happy golden days are yours, Faithful friends who are dear to us, Gather near to us once more. Through the years we'll all be together, If The fates allow"** This careless, unguarded atmosphere, This season...this irony... Grief besotted, Secret-weeper, Days/hours-hours, now months later. All of us perishable, all of us diminished. Days pass, anguish angry persists, the bitter herb remorse greater grows, You, devil, in the details, The fates don't easy permit to let Time succor sorrow to leave. All of us, joined, hand holding, The living and passed, In the valley of dried bones Where dreams-dismembered, Rivers  of desperate-dismay Turned aside and And on that day when: The breath of the fresh fates Wash and bleach with great tenderness, The evil put upon the broken bones. The shrouded shadows of the valley, Bent, banished, sundered, yet now, Surrendering to the only Immutable law of human emotion, A hopeful voice. For the radio reminds us! T'is the season to remember Our peculiar, American anthem, Faithful friends who are dear to us, Gather near to us once more, Through the years we'll all be together, Not if never if but when, Please! When the fates allow. Dec. 22, 2012 Updated: June 8, 2013
nat-lipstadt
Written by
nat-lipstadt
99/M/NYC/Lippstadt/Kraków
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 4:03 PM UTC
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