January 2010
4 posts
4 tags
4 tags
For Narcissus
This daffodil, not yet bloomed,
almost lost in its surroundings,
doesn’t really conform
to its bright and sunny companions, fully-formed.
There’s a sense of longing –
remorse even –evident in the locked petals.
Tilt your ear to the flowerbeds, love.
You’ll hear whispers of wishes to be
set free.
It has to be constricting,
locked up inside of itself the way it is.
It seems any help would...
1 tag
The Problem
I’m the mistake,
whose life has no value;
whose future shouldn’t exist.
It’s hard to say which is worse –
continuing on simply as an accident
or being tossed away with everything else unwanted:
empty boxes and cans.
broken bowls and glasses.
useless receipts and junk mail.
leftovers from Saturday’s lasagna.
and me.
But still,
I will remain in the children’s laughter,
in the blooming gardens,
in...
4 tags
