#yellowed
Album
by Michael R. Burch
I caress them—trapped in brittle cellophane—
and I see how young they were, and how unwise;
and I remember their first flight—an old prop plane,
their blissful arc through alien blue skies ...
And I touch them here through leaves which—tattered, frayed—
are also wings, but wings that never flew:
like Nabokov’s wings—pinned, held. Here, time delayed,
their features never merged, remaining two ...
And Grief, which lurked unseen beyond the lens
or in shadows where It crept on furtive claws
as It scritched Its way into their hearts, depends
on sorrows such as theirs, and works Its jaws ...
and slavers for Its meat—those young, unwise,
who naively dare to dream, yet fail to see
how, lumbering sunward, Hope, ungainly, flies,
clutching to Her ruffled breast what must not be.
Keywords/Tags: album, photos, photographs, pictures, mementos, keepsakes, cellophane, yellowed, leaves, pinned, held, imprisoned, time, delayed
Apr 1, 2020
Apr 1, 2020 at 5:27 AM UTC
Take me with you
like the yellowed leaf
flying with the eastern wind.
Let me run wild
free and spirited
finding peace into your arms.
Let us rest in some far off cliff
and seek the path to
a land where yellowed leaves
and eastern winds
are let to live and to love
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 5:36 AM UTC