I wrote a poem
called feather light
in which a man
took flight like raptors
from a ledge where those creatures
were known to perch
for a minuscule morsel of time
the man felt feather light in his free fall,
but that didn't last--soon the grave grip
of gravity made its presence known
though before he landed
on the pine green canyon floor
the sluggish tug of memory
yanked on him rudely, and lumped his throat
dispelling the manic myth one's life
passes before one's eyes in that final moment
all he saw, save the tree tops
and the shimmering river
was a door closing, the one where she
was on the other side, suitcase in tow
and he was left with a tear drenched face
and aching heart--a lover jilted, again
yes, that was what the poem was about
(but my PC ate it and crapped it out into cyberspace)
Oct 22, 2017
Oct 22, 2017 at 8:53 PM UTC
I wrote a poem
called feather light
in which a man
took flight like raptors
from a ledge where those creatures
were known to perch
for a minuscule morsel of time
the man felt feather light in his free fall,
but that didn't last--soon the grave grip
of gravity made its presence known
though before he landed
on the pine green canyon floor
the sluggish tug of memory
yanked on him rudely, and lumped his throat
dispelling the manic myth one's life
passes before one's eyes in that final moment
all he saw, save the tree tops
and the shimmering river
was a door closing, the one where she
was on the other side, suitcase in tow
and he was left with a tear drenched face
and aching heart--a lover jilted, again
yes, that was what the poem was about
(but my PC ate it and crapped it out into cyberspace)
original written and lost when HP was having some tech difficulties
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