Futile As A Poem

.

What I have lost by not paying attention

is at least equal to what I never saw coming;

what left indelible marks like scabbed scars

that will never heal over and reskin.

 

How dare I stare at sunsets and sun tipped

horizons at morning and grieve for

the things lost, mislaid, stollen. Death

is a reminder that permanence is

transient.

 

Hair turns gray and falls like wire

to the lap eventually. Tires wear out,

favorite pins and earrings break.

The pearls run like rabbits or fish

from light when the string that holds

it all snaps. Finding all the small

orbs may take years.

 

allets

03-07-13

7:09p

.

 

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Beavis's picture

;-)

I love it Lady A, but these lines simply smacked me!
"when the string that holds
it all snaps. Finding all the small
orbs may take years."

allets's picture

It Takes Time

Recovering from any loss, a person, a favorite place of employment, a special item destroyed or stollen. Loss hits hard sometimes. Recovery happens or not - hense the meaning of futility - Just Bein' Lady A


 

 

burkej1h's picture

surely a reminder that most

surely a reminder that most choose to disregard/ignore, enjoyed!

allets's picture

Reminders

Thanks for the read, burkej1h ~~A~~