Coelomic Musings 3: Waiting
Thoughts imprisoned outside the window,
we both wait, weary for release.
The solarium is too far,
and we sit and watch
a red-blazered witch speak
of deaths, of lives, of money,
until the quiet ticking of the clock
becomes too loud from eon to eon.
Moans, urine and Domex give
my claustrophobia a whole new meaning.
My mind yearns
for chaffinches
and whimbrels,
the demon of dementia
left far behind.
Is it water that sustains me
or the memory the simple molecules
carry of open sea, open cloud
and free wind?
Fall changes the shades of
brown, from light to dark
and dark to light.
Freshly mown grass
and new delivered roses
offer a moment's respite,
a kiss of Life as I once knew it.
One human touch of gratefulness
brings my skewered perception
to book, the razor-edge of death
is walkable again.
I dont need the caffeine anymore.
Poetry by Arti
Read 1117 times
Written on 2007-11-23 at 15:34
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