On The Way
Last night I dreamed My dead mother taught me How to let go.
Last night I dreamed My dead mother taught me How to let go.
My mother lived a short, uneasy life. Too often startled from her fondest dreams To do her grudging duties as a wife, She learned that is gives place always to seems. Hope’s too frail to build a life upon, But loneliness endures day after day. In places never brightened by the sun, Despair is never
As soon as I get To somewhere else I’m going, I don’t want to leave.
Nobody knows exactly how it works, The spasm in the heart that makes one face particular. Nobody knows why it hurts when singular passion falls from grace. If the heart is a garden, nobody hoes, or cultivates, or even pulls the weeds. Lovers can never quite master the tools of their own gardening. Nobody needs
I ken ‘tis cold, dear Oldsmobile, but still, Thou crank’st right up just yesterday, so why Hast thou decided to defy my will Today? Thy batt’ry’s fully charg’d, and I Took pains to fill thy gas tank to the brim. No wires have shorted out beneath thy hood, Th’ignition tries to spark awake thy vim
I know it’s cold, dear Oldsmobile, but still, You cranked right up just yesterday, so why Have you decided to defy my will Today? Your battery’s fully charg’d, and I Took pains to fill your gas tank to the brim. No wires have shorted out beneath your hood, Th’ignition tries to spark awake your vim
Don’t utter what you shouldn’t say, Keep secret what you couldn’t say, Remember what you wouldn’t say.
New snow drifting down at dawn- so lovely, unless you must shovel it.
Lingua Latina superstites Caesares sed non Latini.
Hemlocks creak under their burden of ice and snow. A soft thump. They’re free.