another poem from voices
September 6, 2008 at 3:35 am Leave a comment
Non-requiescence
duck calling over overgrown lake
the thought of you:
red satin: i turn away:
i make no sign, no outer sign
though i wish
a word, a cry, a gesture…
something to express
this…
sound in silence, water
in a dessicated land
(sunsummered sere): tans, and greys,
and the flash of that duck, you
the call of that gull, you…
and there is nothing to do.
this one bright moment (sharp as an errant flash from
shattered glass, stabbing
‘midst the concrete)…meaning?
I sigh, i sit. There is nothing to do.
——————————————
–Glenn
Entry filed under: poetry. Tags: non-requiesence, poetry, voices.
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