View From My Window
Memories
The universe rotates and rotates. I believe
it was never there and I laugh and cry
again I blend with the evening drawn to the
sky drawing to a close
and listen to the early morning traffic as it comes
whispering down the street its exhaust billowing
like a train on its tracks in
early morning. I've never had much time for
thinking beyond the whirl of
the cosmos, but I dance with the fireflies,
and remember what it was like to not be
myself I remember what it was like when you
were never there. Memories
stack themselves on shelves in my living room,
and I take them out each day and count them again
and again so I would not forget.
I wish there was never anything to write,
I wish there was nothing but my own imagination
holding me back. My poetic form is
sharp, and the metaphor that comes beckoning
over the hill is like a flower waiting to open.
it was never there and I laugh and cry
again I blend with the evening drawn to the
sky drawing to a close
and listen to the early morning traffic as it comes
whispering down the street its exhaust billowing
like a train on its tracks in
early morning. I've never had much time for
thinking beyond the whirl of
the cosmos, but I dance with the fireflies,
and remember what it was like to not be
myself I remember what it was like when you
were never there. Memories
stack themselves on shelves in my living room,
and I take them out each day and count them again
and again so I would not forget.
I wish there was never anything to write,
I wish there was nothing but my own imagination
holding me back. My poetic form is
sharp, and the metaphor that comes beckoning
over the hill is like a flower waiting to open.
Comment On This Poem ---
Memories
Memories
