Wednesday, February 3, 2010

this twilight sky is violet blue
red clouds with curling grasping fingers hover and
clutch at the disappearing day

and the rambling sorrows beneath the air
are soft and dim and fading like a child's pain

no one is to blame
nothing to conceal or disclose

generation replaces generation with no novelty
no distinctive trait distinguishing it from the previous crew

and yet each new sojourner recalls nothing of the past
seeing this current time and space as if it were new
as if it were the only only which it is but not as they think

this will be ripe for recovery by someone under some
smoky twilight some time after I've gone forth

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.

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