Thursday, January 17, 2008
She Said, Look Out the Window More for the Real Miracle
On the other side of the pain, I have
Stared at the crabapple's branches, skeletal fingers
Finding more December window-dressing
The day's appointed epistle
Wondering what my ashes will feel
In the garden elbowing worms
Aside no stained glass
Work's windows towering over urbanscape
Don't cast aspersions (yes, asperges me,
Domine) on the rusted rivets I bow
Before each morning in the solemn Garage of Go Get 'Em
The real miracle is that glass stains at
All and we don't for long scrubbed by time
Memory's slippery polish still
Yet still
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4 comments:
Following Puss' advice, the nutty pedant goes positively outré.
She brings out the best in us all.
August
Ah ha, you tickle me PK.
Puss
thanks for the poetry, Pawlie
should I be depressed by this?
I'm feeling somber now in my solemn Garage of Go Get 'Em.
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