Post by amelie on Mar 2, 2004 17:08:55 GMT -5
The Spring has arrived;
I crunched the shoots
Of the first daffodil
By accident,
But without remorse.
A ponderous, planetary
Bulking into the glare,
Like a fat-arsed auntie,
Levering her frump on
A sunbed.
I don’t want the unknown
Of beginnings; the violent
Spurt of fecund infancy,
Assaulting me in
Shades of green.
If only, If only I could
Hold back the seasons;
The fog and frost of
Perpetual winter
Would suit right now.
Despair fits easier
When all around is dead;
I need time to recover
In the dark frigidity,
More skulking in fog,
Where the wet clam and
Cling film of vapour,
Muffles and mutes
And snuffs you out,
And tears go unnoticed,
And dry sobs sound
Like a wheezy cough
In an old man’s chest,
As I grieve my lonely grief:
Just a lost spirit in the ether.