Saturday, April 30, 2011

Sail on silver girl

In Retrospect

The silence rang in my ears

and the cold day wrapped its

long bony fingers around me

and stowed me in its pocket, safe

and ironically, warm.

I wasn't surprised to find there was nothing

there left for me,

no plaque bearing my name

no wind ridden statue

no chair.

But nontheless, dissappointed

in myself and my invisible amdirers who

had probably worn away, long ago

after I forgot to return their mail and

instead counted days on my fingers

and weighed them, meticulously,

an old miser and his gold.

So this is what life is like

dusted off and taken from the shelf,

such painstaking simplicity.

Then the pain lost its elegance,

my heart lay,

an ugly relic on the ground.

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