most recent poem, new turn on old theme
Wrote this after work yesterday, but before going mini-fridge shopping with my mum. She's being so cute about this sending me off to school thing, lol. I feel a bit old for it, but love it at the same time-though why not? I didn't go away for my undergrad, the best in-state program is walking distance from the house after all.
This isn't actually a sad poem.
Summer Sending
It's been a good year for brooding,
my little lamb.
The tattarap of your hoofs still vibrate
against a corner of my skull.
But I cannot live to lie in these pastime pastures,
thoughts fixed on the bobbing of your tale.
The winding story heads nowhere the more I play it on:
I lead you here, you pulled me there. But even the footprints are gone.
The mountain winds up still, past the places we managed to reach.
The sky, the sea, go rolling forth-
As must I . . .
Wind beats against my eardrums,
a memory of your sound.
Your bridle hangs, a lonely thing,
as I climb on my own.
emlord
6-16-08
This isn't actually a sad poem.
Summer Sending
It's been a good year for brooding,
my little lamb.
The tattarap of your hoofs still vibrate
against a corner of my skull.
But I cannot live to lie in these pastime pastures,
thoughts fixed on the bobbing of your tale.
The winding story heads nowhere the more I play it on:
I lead you here, you pulled me there. But even the footprints are gone.
The mountain winds up still, past the places we managed to reach.
The sky, the sea, go rolling forth-
As must I . . .
Wind beats against my eardrums,
a memory of your sound.
Your bridle hangs, a lonely thing,
as I climb on my own.
emlord
6-16-08